Life sometimes is complicated
by nonoza
Summary: 22 yr old Castiel picks up Dean,a man over ten years his senior, in a bar. Dean turns out to be co-owner of Castiel's new place of employment. Dean leads a strange existance and Castiel has a secret.
1. Chapter 1

"I hate this bloody desert," Castiel mumbled. It was his first night in Las Vegas. He'd cleaned the apartment, unpacked every stick of furniture he owned, stocked up on food, added a little life to the place with some new items and did all the admin that needed doing. He sat in front of his rickety, old computer and stared at it. Procrastination was the thief of time, he knew this, but he didn't do anything relating to his new job. It was partially due to shame. His dream of being a lawyer was not quite within reach.

He needed money, for reason's he didn't wanna think about, but he didn't want to give up on his dream. So he was going to work for a while as a slave, um, personal assistant. The pay was good and how hard could it be to take calls? It was daunting enough that he didn't prepare, and Castiel always prepared. He had just recently decided to live his life under a banner of avoidance.

"I'm going to drink," he announced as he got out of the chair. He didn't have a TV and his radio was broken. There had not been another soul in his apartment since the moving van had left and he felt the need to hear the sound of his own voice at least. Castiel had been living alone since he was seventeen. He was used to loneliness but today, well today was his first night in a strange new place.

He was from Walden County and Vegas was... Vegas. There was a bar across the street from his apartment. _Why not?_ Castiel thought as he grabbed his keys and walked out of his door for the first time in six hours. He was dressed in a black pair of skinny jeans with a pale blue v-neck t-shirt. It was warm out. Castiel sat at the bar and ordered a vodka tonic. He was starting work tomorrow. It wasn't exactly a night for tequila.

There was some stupid sports event on the tv so the bar started to fill. _Great!_ Castiel thought. He made his move to leave as the fans of whatever started to get rowdy. Unfortunately the idiots were blocking his way. He couldn't even get down from his chair. The jackass behind him was being particularly difficult, basically pressing Castiel into the bar.

"Hey," Castiel called without turning around, "If you want to rub up against me how about you buy me a drink first."

"Another vodka tonic for the lady," the slight southern drawl sounded surprisingly sober. Castiel bit his lip. He had a weakness for southern accents.

"You know what they say about a lady in the street," Castiel flirted.

"Well I'm a caveman and if you continue to talk like that I'll throw you over my shoulder and tie you to my bed," Dean said huskily over his shoulder. Castiel felt the firm, muscled flesh against his back.

Castiel leaned into Dean and rasped, "I live across the street."

Dean got this a lot. He pushed back into the crowd to let Castiel down from his perch. The boy watched his feet as he got down and turned, making it that much more dramatic when he levelled his gaze. Dean had never seen so much blue and Castiel had not come across that shade of green.

"Are you coming?" Castiel brushed his lips against Dean's ear. The older man turned and followed the recent college graduate through the mess of bodies. He checked out the young man's ass when they were outside. Castiel lithely crossed the street.

"You really do live across the street," Dean chuckled. In his experience 'across the street' meant 'six blocks away' and 'around the corner' meant 'across town'. At least when he said those things that's what they meant.

"That's not all, I might even let you tie me to the bed," Castiel pushed his ass out a little as he pulled his keys from his pocket. It was unnecessary. Dean was already checking him out.

"What's your name bad boy?" Dean asked as they walked into the apartment.

"Castiel," the lights flickered on.

"You can tell me your real name," Dean laid his hands on the younger man's hips, "I won't stalk you," he kissed below Castiel's ear, "And if I wanted to a fake name wouldn't help you," he ran his tongue along the pale man's collar bone, making him shiver, "I know where you live."

The husky southern drawl of Dean's voice and his skilled mouth had Castiel breathing heavily already. "Are you going to fuck me at some point or did I pick up a tease?" Castiel pressed into Dean but made no move to touch him. Strong arms went around Castiel and he was pulled into a kiss. Dean couldn't resist a foul mouth, especially one this pretty. Just like that the frenzy started. Castiel cast his t-shirt off and attacked Dean's shirt buttons. Dean hands were drawn to Castiel's smooth, milky skin. He dragged the back of his hand up the shorter man's front. Castiel was defined without being muscular and slight without being skinny. And he was _smooth, _Dean's eyes fell closed.

Castiel got impatient with Dean's buttons, the way the man was touching him! He ripped the shirt open. Who wore an honest to God shirt to bar anyway? Their lips and bodies connected, hands roamed, Castiel was pushed up against a wall and his ass was groped.

"Take off your pants," Castiel panted, tired of Dean's teasing. As soon as Dean's hands went to his belt Castiel started hurriedly on his jeans. Shoes were kicked off as the two stumbled towards the couch. Dean pressed the softer body into the couch. Only when they were naked did it dawn on Castiel that he did not have condoms.

"Uh, hey," he pushed at the hard muscles, "Do you have rubbers?"

"You're joking," Dean propped himself up on his elbows.

"I wish," Castiel wrapped his hand around Dean's girth. Dean bucked into the hot palm. "Touch me," Castiel's voice dropped an octave, making Dean twitch. Dean gripped Castiel and stroked. Castiel slicked pre-come down the impressive length in his hand and his bedmate followed suit. They moaned into each other's mouths as they climbed the walls of ecstasy and fell over the edge together, vocally. Dean grabbed the closest piece of fabric and wiped their stomachs. "I just washed that," Castiel said breathlessly.

"I'll make it up to you," Dean bit Castiel's earlobe. The younger man pressed himself into Dean unconsciously. "Now let's stock up your fun box," Dean smirked.

"If you would get off me..." Castiel hinted. Dean made a small sound of complaint as he lost contact with the warm body. They dressed in a hurry, hand jobs were just so damn frustrating sometimes.

"What's your name?" Dean asked again.

"_Castiel_," he was getting annoyed, not at Dean specifically, his name had this effect on many people.

"Were your parents high when they named you?" Dean chortled.

"I wouldn't know," Castiel shrugged, "Grew up in a home for boys."

"And he said it with a straight face," Dean shook his head, "You are either really well adjusted or incredibly messed up."

"I don't have a car," Castiel shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Mine is parked across the street," Dean opened the door.

"What's your name?" Castiel followed him out.

"Glad you asked. I don't respond well to 'hey you'," the Winchester smirk came out to play, "Dean."

"Nice to meet you Dean," Castiel looked up at him from under his lashes. He had trusted tools too. Dean's jaw dropped. He led the way to his car in silence, not seeing the self-satisfied smile behind him. "This is your car?" Castiel asked when Dean opened the driver's side door. The smirk returned.

"I wanna spend the weekend in a room with it," Castiel ran his hand across the top and closed his eyes. Dean didn't know whether this was a play for him or genuine, overwhelming enthusiasm.

"Get in the damn car you perv," Dean was a little annoyed. He wasn't usually the one left in the dust, guessing. It was something of a turn on though. "Bars usually have condoms," the thought occurred to him.

"Can I sit in the car while you get a few?" Castiel was practically bouncing. Dean threw the keys at him and went inside. Castiel sat inside the car, smelled the leather, ran his hand across the dash. A smile skirted his lips when saw the cassette player. Dean got into the car next to him.

"Do you want to do it in here?" he touched Castiel's thigh.

"I don't know her well enough for that," his hand was swatted away, "Race you across the street," Castiel jumped out of the car.

"You are so juvenile," Dean got out and rolled his eyes.

"Perhaps," Castiel conceded, "But I'm also double-jointed in the most interesting places."

"Go," Dean started running.

"Hey, not fair," Castiel laughed as he ran across the street after Dean, passed him and laughed some more as he opened the door, "You know you're old when you cheat and still lose."

"I didn't run across the street to win a race I did it for naked gymnastics," Dean pushed Castiel inside and closed the door.

"Sure, wanna get drunk?" Castiel brought out his stash of whiskey.

"You're going to impair your judgement with a stranger in your house?" Dean circled Castiel.

"You're not going to force yourself on me, there's nothing to steal, I'm an organ donar and we all have to die someday," Castiel turned and faced Dean, imprisoned him in his blue gaze. Castiel opened the whiskey bottle, opened Dean's mouth and poured the burning liquid down his throat. As Dean savoured the burn Castiel poured some whiskey into his own mouth. Dean distracted him with a kiss and snatched the bottle away.

"Open your mouth," he ran his finger across the pale man's plump lip. Castiel opened his mouth with a little whine. Dean drew him close and poured the whiskey into his mouth, watched him swallow then took a swig. The bottle was passed back and forth, clothes were shed, bodies got closer, warmer. Castiel took off his pants and sat on the table. Dean stood between his legs, feeling him up, licking his nipple, biting it. Castiel had his hands on the table. He caressed Dean with his feet.

The warmth of the liquor had spread over their bodies. The intoxication had spread through their minds. Dean pushed his pants down with one hand and pulled Castiel's boxers off with the other. He slicked up his fingers and inserted them into Castiel's entrance slowly, making him mewl. Castiel laid back on the table basking in the pleasure. "Are you ready?" Dean asked when he'd gotten his fingers buried to the knuckles. He was really horny.

"Yeah," Castiel lifted his leg to Dean's shoulder. Dean fumbled in his pockets for a condom, not an easy task since they were at his knees, and rolled it on. A guttural groan ripped through the air and echoed as Dean penetrated Castiel in one swift motion. Once he was buried to the hilt Castiel sat up and put his other leg on Dean's chest. He grabbed onto Dean's biceps and the older man placed his hands on Castiel's torso.

Dean bit his lip painfully to stem the other sensations. Castiel's legs went by either side of Dean face and yet the younger man's own face was a few inches from Dean's, allowing him to go in deep. Just as Dean started to move Castiel pulled his ace out. Every time Dean pulled out he leaned back only to sit up as he thrust in causing the head of the muscled man's shaft to stroke Castiel's firm, hot wall.

"Good God," Dean dug his fingers into Castiel flesh, moving faster. He thrust higher up, hitting a small bundle of nerves inside the younger man.

"Yes," Castiel encouraged. They continued in this fashion until Castiel clenched around Dean, screaming profanities, causing the man inside him to spill warm fluid into the waiting latex. Castiel fell back onto the table and winced as Dean pulled out of him.

"Don't use my tablecloth," Castiel said with his eyes closed.

"Too late," Dean wiped the last of their shed semen, lay on top of the warm body and put the young man's legs around his waist.

"You were raised by a pack of mutant wolves," Castiel said into Dean's hair.

"The only reason you're getting away with mouthing off is that you have rubber for bones," Dean nuzzled.

"Get off me you ape," Castiel pushed Dean upright, "I'm hungry," he walked naked to the kitchen. Dean stomped off his pants and followed lazily, watching the bruises form on delicate, pale skin. "Stop staring at my ass."

"Cover it up," Dean scoffed, "No, that wouldn't work either. Got bacon?"

"In the fridge, grab me a burger," Castiel pulled out a pan and set it on the stove.

"Can I watch?" Dean set the bacon and the burgers on the counter, "There's something erotic about a young man cooking in the nude."

"You're an ass," Castiel sighed. He found Dean charming despite himself. He felt every look like a caress on his bare flesh. Dean got up and leaned on the counter, giving Castiel full view of his once again swollen member. Castiel pretended not to notice but his penis wasn't as adept in the art of stealth. "I'm hungry," he tried to reason with it. Unfortunately for him the male sex organ was not famous for its reasoning abilities.

"Come here," Castiel gave in. Dean went willingly. He didn't expect to be pushed to his knees but he didn't fight it. The smaller man was stronger than he looked. Dean slid one of the condoms he'd brought with him down Castiel's twitching cock then looked up at him as he took his shaft into his mouth. Castiel's head fell back with a deep moan as his hand fisted in Dean's short hair. Anchoring the man he was servicing with one hand he cupped his balls with the other. Like Dean thought Castiel bucked roughly into his mouth. "Dean," Castiel cried out as he hit the back of the other man's throat. Dean sucked harder and tugged gently on the scrotum. Castiel's hand flitted across the stove top but he didn't feel anything, engrossed as he was in the tight heat of Dean's mouth. He gripped Dean's shoulder as he came. It took a while for him to register the other man's yelp of pain.

"You burned me," Dean got to his feet.

"What?" Castiel looked at Dean's upper arm. A yellow glove was stuck where he'd grabbed him. Being distracted near a hot surface was clearly not the best idea. Dean pulled the glove off, leaving a stencil of Castiel's hand where the skin came off. "Oh God we have to take you to the ER," Castiel ran to get some clothes on and brought Dean's. He came back to find him running cold water over the burn. Castiel helped Dean into his pants, because he wouldn't come away from the steady stream of cool water, but the stubborn bastard refused to put anything on his upper body.

"Dean, let's go," Castiel said after tying his shoes.

"I have to say," Dean wiped the water that was running down his forearm, "This is a first for me."

"You are minus your epidermis. I certainly hope so," Castiel dragged him out. They argued about who should drive. Castiel had never met such an absurd man! Dean drove till they agreed the pain was making him a hazard. Castiel asked Dean to direct him because he had no idea where he was going. All this made for a lot of yelling, which exposed how inebriated they both were. The impala was abandoned in a garage and a cab was hailed. But wait, the night got better. The emergency room was packed so they had to wait, seeing as they were non-emergent. They were fun to look at for everybody else though. After what felt like forever Dean was attended to.

The awkward question of how the burn came to be was answered with the shamelessness only alcohol could grant. Ten minutes before five Dean's wound was dressed and he was sent home with a pound of pills. "Where are you going?" Castiel asked when Dean did not seem to be taking his own direction.

"I'm pretty sure my phone is at your place," Dean explained. They found the cab they'd taken to the hospital but it would not stop for them, empty as it was, because they'd been a pain in the ass. A loud pain in the ass. One stopped eventually. Dean, who had received some morphine, was going on about how _hot_ Castiel was in bed and laughing at the pun each time he said the sentence. Castiel reminded him that they'd been nowhere near a bed. Dean just laughed louder. He ended up sleeping over. If you call three hours sleep. He woke to Castiel's panicked rambling. Castiel was supposed to be at work by eight o'clock not getting out of bed. This is how Dean ended up walking nine blocks to his car in a shirt with two buttons. He hadn't even gotten a phone number. The burning sensation in his arm was telling him that he was crazy for wanting to see Castiel again but he didn't care. There was just something about that boy.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank u all 4 the reviews. I put a lot of thought into the hand print so I'm happy it was noticed. I chose a few angles that weren't obvious in this piece. Please tell me what you think.**

Castiel didn't shave that morning. He put on some deodorant, brushed his teeth and put on a generous amount of cologne. The black suit was his pick. He felt he looked a little less filthy against the dark colour. Taming his unruly hair was definitely out. Castiel donned his tan trench coat, fully prepared to work into the night to make up for his late arrival. Breakfast was coffee from a vending machine on his way to the elevator at his new workplace: Winchester's Insurance. Some big oaf rammed into him, spilling hot coffee down the front left side of his coat.

"Watch it," Sam moved his six hundred dollar pants out of the way of the offending liquid.

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" Castiel threw the now empty container in the nearby trash can.

"I'm not known for my humor," Sam didn't hold the elevator, just watched Castiel frantically wipe the scalding liquid away before it penetrated and karma gave him his own third degree burn. "Going up?" Sam simply folded his arms and watched the flushed little dude.

"I'll get the next one," Castiel thought it wise not to be in the same elevator as the ass, he might lose his job if he killed someone. "I'm sorry about cursing," he sighed, "I'm having a stressful morning."

"Get a helmet," Sam told him as the doors closed.

"Ass," Castiel hissed. He stepped into the adjacent lift, took off his coat and strategically folded it over his forearm to conceal the stain. "Excuse me," he tapped someone's shoulder when he got to the right floor, "I'm looking for Samuel Winchester's office."

"Take a right and straight ahead," the young woman directed without looking up from her scribbling.

"Thank you," Castiel mustered a smile which faded as soon as he turned to walk down the directed path.

"How long do you think he'll last?" someone asked behind him.

"Twenty says he won't make it through the week," someone else answered.

"A hundred says he doesn't make it through the day," the young woman with the directions said in the same disinterested tone, "He's late and he doesn't know where his boss's office is."

Castiel walked to the office listening to people place bets on how long he'd keep his job. He'd heard his new boss was a bit off a hard ass but these people were scaring him. After considering knocking for a fruitless thirty seconds he noted the silence within and entered.

"Good morning Mr..." Castiel's jaw dropped before he was even halfway through what would have been an apology.

"This is too good," Sam laughed when he recognised Castiel from their earlier encounter.

"I feel I need to tell you I do not usually behave the way I did when I bumped into you earlier," the young man's self-preservation instincts kicked in,

"Can you hire your replacement before you leave?" Sam leaned back, a cruel little smile threatening to turn up the corners of his mouth.

"At this point I can only get you a temp and by the time you're done wasting your morning showing them how things work. They'll be so behind by the end of the day you'll have just enough slack to hang them," Castiel tried to talk his boss off the present course, "I don't think you want to go to jail or have an inefficient work day. Time is money, right?"

"I'm not convinced you're much more competent," Sam said honestly.

"Then test me," Castiel mentally prepared himself for whatever task might be thrown his way.

"Jess has been nagging me about dining at Bar Basque ," Sam thought out loud, "And about working as much I do so I'm going to take the afternoon off and give in to her demands. Also, my brother's juvenile antics have resulted in my laptop being reduced to a block of government cheese. I need to make him miserable enough to put an end to his nonsense. If you take care of all the details you can keep your job for the foreseeable future."

"One o'clock?" Castiel kept his perfected poker face.

"One it is," Sam was looking forward to the collapse of this young man's bravado. It would be the perfect start to a relaxing afternoon.

"Why oh why is someone knocking down a wall in my office?" Dean stormed into his brother's office.

"Dean, meet my new assistant with the funny name," Sam was not about to have this conversation in front of the help.

"Castiel Novak," the young man extended a surprisingly steady hand to Dean, his eyes wide and heart pounding.

"Dean," a smile twinkled in the emerald eyes, "Winchester. Like the gun."

"Like the name on the side of the building," Castiel was mentally kicking himself for the decisions he'd made in the last twenty four hours.

"Novad," Sam cut in, "Don't you have work to do?"

"I'll get right to it," Castiel extricated his hand from Deans with a little difficulty. The richer man seemed to be in some kind of trance. His body actually turned of its own accord to ensure he could watch Castiel walk away.

"That is a pretty boy you have working for Sammy," Dean watched Castiel loosen his tie and unbutton his top button looking absolutely flushed.

"That is a sexual harassment lawsuit we could do without Dean," his brother said what he was almost certain would be completely fruitless.

"My workspace is under construction," the older brother pointed out, "Give a little."

"Stop thinking with your penis," Sam countered.

"But that's where I get the most circulation," Dean said in a sugary voice, "Now why do I have rubble on my floor."

"I'm having a shower installed in there," the more practical partner stated.

"I see how that could be fun for me but it's not my birthday or Christmas," the man with the emerald eyes scratched his forehead.

"You bathe in cologne every Monday," Sam rolled his eyes.

"Why did I have to look this one in the mouth?" Dean turned to leave and then turned back, "I have to pretty, blond... resourceful assistants who would just love to come work for you."

"Dean," Sam spoke slowly, "We are not playing musical chairs with our employees so you can get laid."

"Fine," Dean groaned. He wanted to wink at Castiel as he walked by but the boy refused to look at him so Dean went to his office to do something semi-productive, hopefully without seeing the crack of an overweight construction worker.

Castiel's day kept getting worse. The hangover was starting to set in and he was getting yelled at on the phone. Bar Basque, as he discovered, was in New York. It was a six hour flight and he would have to find seats in the next ten seconds. Samuel Winchester's work was split between actuarial and managerial duties. His morning started with statistics so he could crunch numbers on his flight. If only the shrew he was trying to communicate with would speak in an indoor voice.

"I need him on the next flight," Castiel's hand clenched into a fist.

"It departs in eight minutes and we have free seats in the business class," the harpy said with practised patients.

"My boss is going to kill me if I stick his wife in the business class," Castiel hissed.

"I'll stay on the line and call 911," the efficient tone answered.

"Eat me," Castiel dropped the phone. He had assembled every piece of available information on his new company and boss. Jess, full name Jessica nee Moore, turned out to be the pretty, blond wife whose location was impossible to pin down. Inspiration struck Castiel as he was going over his sea of information. He called down to Transport to reserve the company jet.

"I'm sorry, did you just tell me the co-owner, the guy who helps run the company and gives it free actuarial services, that he can't have his company's jet for a single day?" Castiel gripped his desk.

"Yes because the other co-owner, the guy who carries out most managerial tasks and woos the company's clientele is going to be using it," a bored voice answered.

"Have a nice day," Castiel snarled.

"Call again soon," pleasure was injected into the voice. The call ended.

"Everyone here is mean," Castiel's lower lip protruded... then he realised not _everyone_ was mean. He felt a little ashamed then he remembered he'd be out on his ass in five hours and rallied. He took the mobile phone he'd been assigned and called the fancy restaurant while he stalked Dean's office. He asked for a two or three o'clock reservation, maybe four. The guy on the other side of the line asked for the date and when Castiel answered, "This afternoon," he actually burst into laughter. Not in a position to be indignant or enraged Castiel started to negotiate, bordering on grovelling.

"On hold?" Dean made Castiel jump.

"It's a step up from being disconnected," the young man turned, so did the corners of his lips.

"Stalking me?" Dean smiled.

"No," Castiel answered, "I'm just lurking quietly outside your office."

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "Sneak up on a bunch of guys with nail guns," he walked past.

"I need your help," Castiel said looking down.

"I was happier when I thought your stalking was recreational," Dean mock pouted, "What do you need?"

"The company jet?" the young man rubbed his neck. It was a nervous gesture.

"Boy! You swing for the fence," a surprised laugh escaped Dean.

"I'm sorry but I am desperate," Castiel threw his hands in the air, "I am trying to get a reservation at a restaurant where they laughed at me for not calling last fall, I cannot find my boss's wife and I have no idea how to get them to New York by this afternoon. He is going to fire me. I have no money and no place to go. This hangover is giving me a headache that I can feel in my teeth. And I have no one. I'm crying to my one night stand," Castiel shook his head with his hand on his forehead.

"I have scotch at that construction sight with my name on the door," Dean put his hand on Castiel's shoulder.

"Completely unhelpful as it will be, pour me a glass," Castiel led the way. Dean took the phone out of his hand and redialled.

"Dean Winchester, I need a reservation for two at three this afternoon," he said after the peppy little greeting, "Good man," he put the phone down.

"I'm ineffectual," Castiel fell into the chair facing Dean's desk.

"I'm in business insurance," Dean poured and handed Castiel the glass, "They're just listening to me to cover their ass. You can have the company jet and I'll take all my brother's managerial appointments, the rest you can do the shuffle with. I'll secure Jess."

"Should I kiss your feet or will the ground under them suffice?" Castiel asked in amazement.

"You can be self-sufficient tomorrow," Dean advised, "Because Sam will not hesitate to fire you. "

"I don't doubt that," Castiel downed his whiskey like he was in a bar. Dean laughed quietly. Castiel had clearly never had a drink in business situation. "This year alone eight assistants have quit: one from El Salvador, one from Africa, one from Poland, _two_ from Germany. People who survived slavery, genocide, Nazi's, rogue Special Forces, _world war two_ ran away screaming. He's cruel and malicious. It's like he's missing a soul."

"Wow," Dean's emerald eyes widened.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk smack about your brother," Castiel looked up at Dean.

"I think that's the most accurate description of Sam I've ever heard," Dean downed his drink like he was at a bar too. When in Rome or when Roman's come or whatever.

"I'm going back to Charles Lynch," Castiel got up, "Do you wanna come over and unwind after your busy afternoon?"

"I can't," Dean shook his head.

"Okay," Castiel rubbed his neck. It was also a gesture of humiliation.

"I want to but I just saved your ass and if we hook up, well... that's the very definition of sexual harassment," the business owner said.

"You didn't do this for me," Castiel started spinning (he was a whiz at this), "You did this for Jessica. Her husband does various time-consuming things for this company and she doesn't see him enough. His afternoon off will give her quality time. As a bonus, you can use his office and not have people hacking the walls with sledgehammers in the background during your meetings."

"Seven good for you?" Dean smiled broadly.

"It's perfect," Castiel couldn't help but smile back. For once in his life he felt like he had someone. A non-permanent someone but hey, beggars don't choose.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel kept changing his mind. The light seemed harsh but candles seemed to be too much. He had the entire afternoon to prepare dinner. Sam had dismissed him with the words 'you live to fight another day' when he left. Castiel had devised his own filing system, confirmed the next day's appointments, ordered flowers for the wife, ordered breakfast for his boss that he would pick up at seven forty five the next day. Yeah, he was feeling a little better about his job. Preparation was key. Which is the main reason he was freaking himself out about this evening with Dean.

This was obviously a bad idea. Doing your boss almost ends indisaster. Dean was rich. He was probably used to three course meals and caviar and other expensive things he didn't have and had never eaten. After hauling all the food out of the fridge and cupboard he put it all back and made an English breakfast. Dean liked bacon. If you invite a guy over you have to feed him at least one thing he likes, right? Why was he putting so much effort into this?

Castiel changed his clothes three times. He settled on keeping the shirt and tie he'd worn to work. He swapped the pants for a navy pair of skinnies. Tried and trusted baby. After going back and forth between the couch and the dining table a few times he settled on the dining table. There was no TV so the dining table won. Shaving was left for a later time. Stubble was always good. Castiel was ready fifteen minutes before seven. He waited in the hallway so there'd be a respectable gap between the knock and the opening of the door.

Dean showed up ten minutes early in his wilted suit minus the jacket. His sleeves were rolled up and his tie loosened. Gone was the slick hairdo. Dean's short hair was standing. It was as casual as he could get with what little time he had. He parked on the curb and ran up to the door. After pressing the doorbell three times and not hearing a sound he knocked.

"Dean," Castiel smiled as he opened the door, "You brought me flowers," he laughed.

"Google said this is what the boy does when he comes over," Dean handed the younger man the bouquet.

"Your idiocy knows no bounds," Castiel laughed as he took the flowers.

"Insert kiss here," Dean touched his cheek. Castiel smiled at his taste in men as he kissed Dean's cheek. "I love being irresistible," the man with the dirty blond hair smirked as he walked by his host.

"You're not irresistible," Castiel put his hands on the small of Dean's back, directing him, "I'm just easy."

"The shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes," Dean shook his head. Sometimes Castiel seemed to have two personalities. One picked up guys in bars, came on to his boss and was a little dark. The other was responsible enough to go to college and get a job with no coercion from parents or anybody apparently. Dean's face lit up when he saw the table.

"Laugh, get it out," Castiel encouraged.

"Are you kidding me? This is perfect," Dean couldn't believe it, "I was expecting you to feed me vegetables and all sorts of things I would've been happy to push around my plate till you were distracted enough for me to get away with stuffing them in my napkin."

"Do you wanna eat on the floor Tarzan?" Castiel smiled. There was something childlike about Dean. Not in the annoying way, in that cute way that makes you forget your troubles.

"I've been housebroken," Dean took a seat and started eating.

"How was work?" Castiel started to dig in as well.

"I had Sam's clients this afternoon, miserable bastards," Dean stuffed his face.

"Are you gonna chew that?" Castiel watched the other man eating.

"You want a man to chew, you serve sex first," Dean educated.

"You got somewhere to be?" the young man asked.

"I thought you'd want me out of here early," Dean thought it fairly obvious, "Tomorrow..." Dean said when he saw Castiel's look of confusion, "Dude, Death is coming."

"Death is coming?" the blue eyes flew open.

"Death is coming," Dean confirmed.

"Let's try a new sentence. That one? It isn't comforting!" Castiel slammed his fork onto the table.

"I'm sorry. I've never met an employee who didn't know Death," Dean recovered from his shock.

"Still waiting on the comfort over here," Castiel tapped his foot.

"We have this big shot client, Julian Richings. He is always in a black suit, has a cane and a ring everyone swears is the ring of Gyges," Dean shared the lore, "Why did they picked the legend of the invincible shepherd? Well, he kind of is invincible. He owns half the casinos in this place and the last person who tried to take his throne wound up in bankruptcy court. Death bought all his property, demolished the houses, scrapped the cars and I swear I heard something about a bonfire of furniture. And the shepherd thing is because he has eleven children. They're all in various parts of his business. Once a year we meet up with him to pretend to negotiate contracts but we all know it's a farce and we can't afford to lose his business."

"You have to go," Castiel sprang out of his seat.

"Yep, definitely start with the sex," Dean nodded as he got to his feet.

"You just put the fear of God in me. No, your brother already did that. You got the honour of putting the fear of Death in me," Castiel's hands went into his hair.

"Calm down," Dean put his hand on Castiel's shoulder, "Death likes pizza... from Chicago. Follow that with a bacon dog... from a stand in LA. Top it all off with fried pickled chips from Sioux Falls. Oh and he likes chocolate milkshake. Only Sam knows the specifics and he has backup but he will fire you for not knowing. Hopefully you'll be the first assistant to survive a visit from Death."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," Castiel grumbled as he led Dean to the door.

"Cas," Dean stopped at the door, "Calm down," he kissed the young man's forehead, "You have a phone assigned to you by the company. People will yell at you for calling so late but if you can find the best pizza in Chicago and all the other crap. Apply yourself and it will work out fine," he gave Castiel a chaste kiss on the mouth, "One more tip: avoid Death as much as you can. If you think Sam is missing a soul, well, Death is probably the one who took it."

"That's reassuring," Castiel's expression became even more sour.

"Wanna know what will make you feel better?" Dean leaned in, "Sex."

"I have to find the perfect bacon dog, remember?" Castiel pushed the older man back.

"A quickie will boost your enthusiasm," Dean wouldn't give up.

"You're incorrigible," Castiel pulled Dean into the house.

"If I had a penny for every time I heard that one," the horny businessman said into Castiel's mouth as he circled and pushed him up against the door.

"Do you think I should learn about the eleven children?" asked as Dean nipped at his neck.

"No," Dean attacked Castiel's buttons, "You have to organise every piece of paper Sam will touch, keep the food warm, blah blah."

"To be seen not heard, got it," Castiel took Dean's hands off his shirt and put them on the belt, "Quickie," he reminded, "How should I time the food serving?"

"Watch Death for ring twisting," Dean lowered his own pants, Castiel's hands were limp on his shoulders.

"How do I get in and do the organising? There is a meeting at eight and Death comes in at nine," Castiel was fully appreciating how unprepared he was.

"Hijack a conference room," Dean kissed Castiel on the mouth, rubbing and squeezing his thighs, grinding against him.

"How do I do all this and man the phones?" Castiel pushed Dean back.

"Congratulations, I'm flaccid," the green eyed man huffed.

"I'm sorry, I'm distracted," Castiel pulled his pants up.

"You don't say," Dean put on his pants and brushed the dust away, "I'm gonna go."

"Um, tomorrow?" Castiel stood awkwardly between Dean and the door.

"I can't," Dean shook his head.

"Dean," Castiel did the thing with the eyes.

"Adam's coming to town," Dean explained, "He's the youngest brother and he chose medicine over the family business so Sam and Dad always get into it with him. Dad got his mom pregnant while he was separated from our mother, whom he is now back with so family dinner requires a buffer and referee, maybe a SORT team."

"Sorry I thought you were blowing me off," Castiel looked down, "And it's SWAT."

"Put down the red pen, it's SORT: Special Operations Response Team. They clean up prison riots. Hey," Dean put his hand under the young man's chin and lifted it, "There's something about you Blue Eyes. Besides just think of the kick I'll get from telling people how we met if I keep you around."

"Tomorrow then," Castiel gave Dean a tender, deep kiss.

"When you're done crying," the older man said when he pulled back.

"That is too close to the truth to be funny," Castiel shook his head, "And thank you for the nickname. I've never had one before."

"You're telling me people called you Castiel all your life?" Dean couldn't believe it.

"Oh I never said they called me that either," the young man fiddled with his shirt. There was a moment of awkward silence. "Anyway, I'll try to make tomorrow a little less disastrous than your time served."

"I have to duck when people try to pat me. The bar is very low," Dean kissed Castiel and left.

"I'll never hear the end of that," Castiel mumbled as he closed the door. He only slept for four hours that night, in random intervals. It was worth the effort though. He found all of Death's foods and actually managed to convince the people who made them to come to Vegas. He booked their flights, picked them up at the airport and put them up in a hotel. He even slept in the lobby till he was told he had to either get a room or leave. The second he got home he pressed the next day's attire: black pants, navy shirt, pale blue tie with a pattern that made it look like it had a slight shimmer to it. Another round of sleep took place while his coat was in the washing machine. He got up again when that was done, on to removing those wrinkles.

Castiel took another nap to remove the bags from under his eyes then took a shower. He even did a commendable job of taming his hair then he went to wake some cranky vendors and took them grocery shopping then to work. After he found the kitchen he gave them times to have the food ready by and left them to organise Sam's info on Death. He said a prayer as he made the milkshake then he put it in the fridge and marked it 'Death'. Once you've shared a fridge in college you know marking things with scary crap is your friend. Gaining access to the boss man's office proved impossible but he did manage to snatch up a conference room and pull all the required files. He ran out to pick up Sam's breakfast.

"I beat you to the office again?" Sam looked up from his work, "Leave. I'm not sure you won't burn this building to the ground with your incompetence."

"I just went out to get you breakfast," Castiel explained as he walked in, "Egg white omelet, coffee, decaf, black, no sugar," he set the items on the table. _Disgusting _Castiel thought _Unsweetened black coffee? What fun are eggs without the yolk?_ "I've secured the forth floor conference room for your first meeting. I'll organise all the documents you need in here for your meeting with Mr Richings and file them in order of importance. I could make up a cheat sheet for you about his life."

"I've been doing business with Richings for years," Sam pointed out.

"This is the file you'll need for your eight o'clock," Castiel set it down, "Will there be anything else?"

"Jessica's expecting flowers," Sam replied.

"She's going to get thirty white roses at ten, when she has brunch with Bela," Castiel informs, "Flowers are usually appreciated more when there's an audience. And the increase in volume is meant to convey you had a good time yesterday."

"She knows that," Sam started in on his food.

"It never hurts to make sure," Castiel backed out of the room and closed the door. This guy was just fishing for a reason to disapprove. The young man kept himself busy, afraid he'd fall asleep if he sat still for a minute and he was pretty sure he'd be fired if he left his post. After an hour people appeared busier. A tall man in a black suit with a grave face came down the hall. It was like he was walking in slow motion. Castiel was pretty sure this guy didn't need the cane. There were people with him in suits of various colours, none of them primary. They seemed to disappear into the walls as Death approached.

"Mr Richings," Castiel got to his feet. Death simply needed. "This way please," Castiel escorted the man to the office and opened the door for him. "Would you like some pizza?" Castiel asked before the man passed him.

"Yes," Death walked past. Castiel closed the door and rushed to the kitchen.

"Please tell me that pizza's ready," Castiel poked his head inside the door.

"Fresh out of the oven," the cook set it on the plate.

"Thank you," Castiel touched her shoulder and went to pour a glass of chocolate milkshake. "Wish me luck," he breathed.

"Good luck," they all said as he left the kitchen. Castiel was earnest and people liked him. He tried to be as quiet as possible when he brought Death his food. Sam wanted a file in the corner. His wall was mostly glass. Castiel went to get it and a car caught his eye.

"Something interesting in that corner Novad?" Sam asked.

"It's a 1959 Cadillac- and that was rhetorical," Castiel rubbed the side of his neck, "I'll go," he set the file down.

"You can drive it around the block," Death withdrew the keys from his pocket. Castiel and Sam's eyes flew open. "I like the pizza," Death gave a barely noticeable shrug.

"Thank you sir," Castiel took the keys and bounced out of the room. Things were looking up. He went to find Dean. He had to thank him. In his excitement he just barged in. "Dean! He liked the pizza."

"Ow," someone squealed under the desk. Castiel had startled Dean... who was getting a blowjob. It did not end well for the guy who was giving it.

"Cas," Dean got up, doing his pants as he did.

"His nose is bleeding," Castiel pointed to the black-haired man standing next to Dean.

"Oh Michael, I'm sorry," Dean passed the other guy his handkerchief. Michael noted how similar his features were to Castiel's and how the young man looked at Dean.

"Why do I keep hitting myself with this hammer?" Michael held the handkerchief to his nose as he walked to the door.

"Good question," Castiel turned and walked out with him.

"Oh come on," Dean threw his hands in the air. He just couldn't catch a break! And though he knew he didn't owe Castiel anything he felt a twinge of guilt.

**AN: Thanx 4 all the favourites, alerts and reviews. Keep them coming. In the role of Michael please call Young John Winchester to mind. Thenyou don't have two Adams runnng around in ur head n it fits with Dean's taste.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: You know what I love about my reviewers? You guys seem to know exactly what I put the most thought into. I tried my best to integrate the series into the story so thank u 4 noticing Gackt. Thank u Phoenix 4 appreciating Death. I tried to make him as badass as I could. Please keep reviewing, it inspires me to write and helps me know what u like. Fair warning: not very many laughs here, some decent porn, I think. **

"So," Michael studied Castiel, "You and Dean."

"We're not a thing," the young man shook his head.

"I know," Michael nodded, "He isn't exactly boyfriend material but I keep hoping."

"You know what? I'm working. I have no time to deal with my one night stand's whatever you are," Castiel started to walk away.

"You poor boy," Michael was genuinely sorry for Castiel, "You're falling for him."

"I've known him for two days," Castiel was annoyed.

"I believe you," Michael removed the handkerchief from his nose, "Because if you knew him you'd know he's done a lot more with less. If you want my advice, stay away from him."

"Says the guy who was blowing him five seconds ago," Castiel was really getting put out with Michael.

"I love him," Michael admitted, "And as much as he hurts me I cannot walk away from him without feeling like something is eating away at my organs. It's my fault for being weak but I just wish someone could have given me a heads up." Michael put the handkerchief in the inside pocket of his jacket as he walked away from Castiel. He would wash and save it. He found it was easier to stay away from Dean when he had something to hold on to when longing made him ache.

Castiel went back to his desk, his good mood deflated. He did his work facing Sam's office, foregoing his view of people as they entered. "Cas," Dean showed up two hours later.

"Mr Winchester, how can I help you?" Castiel was all business. Michael had made some valid points. Dean was someone he could easily fall for. Not only could he not afford to fall for someone right now but he definitely couldn't fall for a flirt.

"Come on, don't," Dean reached out and pulled his hand back before it made contact with Castiel.

"What do you want?" the raven haired boy asked.

"I want to give you something," Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet. He wasn't sure why he was doing this. He just knew thinking Castiel was mad at him didn't feel good.

"What? A burning sensation when I pee? No thanks," Castiel kept his eyes on the papers before him.

"I thought you might want to borrow the Impala for the day," the green eyed man offered awkwardly, "It's a busy day and you don't have a car."

"Okay," inspiration struck Castiel.

"I'll come pick it up at your place," Dean placed the keys on the desk before Castiel could reject his less than subtle attempt to get himself into the shorter man's home. After getting Sam and Death a bacon dog and one dry looking salad along with chocolate milk and some water respectively Castiel took both set of keys and exited the building.

"What do you think you're doing?" a deep voice asked Castiel as he dragged his hand over the perfect paint job of the Cadillac.

"I'm taking this baby for a spin," Castiel was bragging just a bit.

"The hell you are," a chocolate coloured man came into his line of sight.

"What are you? The car guard?" Castiel rolled his eyes, "The owner gave me the keys," he held them up.

"I've heard about you," the stoic expression didn't cool, "You're the tea lady."

"Cute," Castiel huffed but decided not to engage, "Please get out of my way," he requested politely.

"Make me," the other man came closer, blocking him completely from the door.

"Very mature," Castiel laughed, "Look," he said when he saw the other man not moving, "I will never get another chance to drive this car, and I _really_ want to drive this car so get out of my way."

"You say that like there's something you can do if I don't," the smooth baritone continued antagonistically.

"Dude, I grew up in a home for boys with the name Castiel," the young man warned, "Where'd you learn to fight? Boarding school?"

"Raphy," an amused voice stopped the angry young man, "Father would not approve."

"I'm warning you Castiel," the stern faced man said in a low voice, "Do not get into that car. You will regret it."

"That only makes me want to do it more," Castiel smiled and watched the other man walk off. He wished all the people who had said his posture was stiff could see this guy.

"He's going to make your life a living hell," a slight man walked up to Castiel. He was wearing a t-shirt under his jacket instead of a shirt like everyone else. "Balthazar," he extended his hand, "And don't take my brother's actions personally," he shook Castiel's hand, "He's jealous. Frankly so am I."

"Pardon me," Castiel did not see why this man and his ass of a brother would be jealous of him.

"Well, only one of us has ever driven that thing," Balthazar didn't even touch the car, just stood back and looked at it, "Not counting the time Lucifer stole and crashed it, which did not end well. He meets you for five seconds and hands over the keys? You must have made one hell of an impression."

"You're one of his eleven children," it dawned on Castiel, "And so is the guy I just ticked off."

"Don't take it personally,"Balthazar shrugged, "Raphael hates everyone."

"I should really ask for people's names before I mouth off," Castiel raked his hands through his hair.

"No matter," Balthazar waved, "As long as you don't piss off our father or Michael you're golden. Being at odds with Raphael is not good and Virgil always backs him up but if you have Dad and Michael in your corner..."

"Michael wouldn't happen to be a really cute guy with dark hair, chiselled jaw, green eyes, wearing an all black suit, would he?" Castiel played back the day's events.

"That's daddy's little perfectionist," Balthazar nodded.

"And this day started out so well," Castiel further messed up his hair.

"Father approves of you so Michael will forgive you whatever indiscretion. He has the disease to please," Balthazar assured, "Nice meeting you Cassie, I can see why Death likes you."

"Thank you," Castiel smiled, "And call me Cas."

"Enjoy your ride Cas," Balthazar walked away.

"I plan to," Castiel mumbled, "Seeing as people are already lining up to take it out of my ass."

Lucifer watched Castiel get into his father's prized car and drive off with his fists clenched. He took deep breaths, trying to contain his rage. He understood why his father had let Michael drive the car. Michael was the only surviving son of Death's great love. Tessa had died before her time, giving birth to what would have been their second son together. Neither of them made it back home. Death had ten other children by three other women. Lucifer, Zachariah and Virgil by Eve, Raphael and Uriel by Missouri and Gabriel, Balthazar, Anna, Rachel and Cupid by Elanor Visyek. He did the best he could to show them all affection but that was not an easy feat for any parent with so many children and Death was a hard man.

Castiel didn't get over twenty miles per hour on his drive. He could not afford to damage this car. It was a smoother ride than he thought. The car wasn't modified in any way but it was in pristine condition. Castiel stuck his hand out of the window and felt the wind pass through his fingers. For fifteen glorious minutes he was light and free, sitting on a cloud that moved slowly through the Earth. He parked the car and pocketed the keys. His drive in the Impala was not as relaxing. Every part of it reminded him of Dean. He dropped it off at the auto body shop with vindictive satisfaction, put a rush order on it and took a cab back to work.

"Novad," Sam called. Castiel had that sinking feeling again. He entered the office and waited silently for instruction. "Lucifer needs assistance in the fourteenth floor conference room."

Castiel nodded and went looking for the correct conference room. He knew by now that there were numerous conference rooms on each floor. His boss just wasn't going to tell him which one.

"You're giving him to Lucifer?" Death tilted his head.

"Yes," Sam nodded.

"Why not take him outside and shoot him?" Death asked, "It would be more humane."

"And when have I ever been accused of that?" Sam returned in the same cool tone. Death tilted his head in acquiescence.

Working for Lucifer turned out to be even less fun than working for Sam. Not only did Castiel have to put up with insane tasks but he was also subject to being berated and humiliated. Then Raphael joined in. He and Lucifer were in the collecting part of the business, laying claim to people's homes, cars and other assets. It was hard work for Castiel. It was so painful for him to know a child was missing out on a great education because a parent decided to go wild in Vegas that all the torture being thrown his way was a dull ache in the background. He ran back and forth between his usual job and the hazing ritual because a) he needed to give Death back his car keys and b) he was sure Sam would give him a sandpaper enema if he let things on that side slip.

"I need a break," Castiel spoke up three hours after he was supposed to have gone to lunch.

"You can have a break or you can have a job," Rahael replied. This was all unnecessary. There were employees that were getting paid to do this crap work. Lucifer and Raphael just wanted to make Castiel suffer and watch as it happened. Jealousy was an ugly thing. By the end of the day Castiel hurt all over. Raphael walked out with satisfied albeit cold smile.

"Was that as good for you as it was for me?" Lucifer smirked after watching Castiel clear up and organise the paperwork they had racked up in the past half day.

"Suck my dick," Castiel walked turned to walk away.

"Watch your mouth," Lucifer grabbed his upper arm and turned him forcefully.

"There's just you and me in here," Castiel said in a low smug voice, "I'm the one who'll be leaving this room with a bruise and any person with sense in their head knows I would never be the one to attack you."

"You son of a bitch," Lucifer shoved Castiel.

"I'm short, skinny and gay," Castiel made his way to the door, "I had to fight dirty to survive where I come from."

The young man disappeared through the door as Lucifer watched with grudging admiration. When he got to his desk Castiel picked up his long discarded coat, folded it onto his arm and turned to leave only to run into Dean. "It's eight thirty," the young man sighed, "The only thing in my stomach is half a candy bar I wolfed down next to the vending machine to keep my blood sugar from bottoming out. Can't you just let me go home?"

"Death left you some food in the kitchen," Dean answered, "And please tell me some dick is parked in my spot."

"No," Castiel walked around Dean to the kitchen.

"Cas," Dean tried to remain calm, "Are you sure that's the Impala?"

"Yep," Castiel tore through foil and bit into a bacon dog.

"Have you seen it?" Dean wasn't sure the young man knew what he was verifying.

"Uh huh," was all the answer Castiel mustered with his full mouth.

"Castiel," Dean kept his voice level, "Why is my car pink?"

The young man just raised his shoulders, munching away. He pulled the milkshake out of the fridge and gulped. "Dammit Cas, answer me," Dean dropped his bag.

"I had your paint job retouched," Castiel set the food down. He knew that eating too much too fast after a long day on an empty stomach would give him a tummy ache.

"I get that you're pissed at me but you love that car," Dean could not imagine that Castiel felt that wronged.

"My boss wanted to send you a message about touching his toys," Castiel corrected, "I need to get on whatever semblance of a good side he has so as to never, ever, ever be stuck in a room with Lucifer and Raphael ever again."

"You little bitch," Dean pushed Castiel up against the wall, pressing up against him.

"Does it make you feel more like a man to call me that?" Castiel tried to mask his heavy breathing with attitude.

"No," Dean slipped his hands between their bodies, "You know what would?" he started unbuckling Castiel's belt, "Burying my dick in your ass."

"You want to bend me over right in this kitchen?" Castiel's face turned crimson, his cock filling with blood.

"I want to make you beg," Dean shoved his hands into Castiel's pants, palming the substantial bulk there.

"No," Castiel moaned.

"My cock is hard for you," Dean brushed his member against Castiel's thigh, getting much needed friction, "It doesn't matter how I get off. It just frustrates me more," Dean growled into the young man's ear and let his pants fall, "Let me fuck you," he rubbed his length against Castiel's.

"Yes," the young man's head fell back.

"Undress me," Dean took Castiel's hands and put them on his belt, "I wanna kiss you."

Castiel started freeing Dean from his pants. Dean kissed him, passionately, cradling his face in his hands. Kissing Castiel was a pleasurable, sensual experience. It was turning his shaft purple with pent up need but there was another feeling, one he couldn't put his finger on but it felt good too. Castiel moaned as he pushed Dean's boxers down and grabbed his bare ass, causing the muscular man to grunt.

"I need to be inside you," Dean broke the kiss. Castiel lowered his underwear and bent over a counter. Dean watched his pale supple ass.

"Take me," Castiel panted, "Now Dean."

Dean slicked up his fingers with saliva and inserted them into Castiel. The raven haired boy pushed back onto the fingers wantonly. Dean slicked pre-come over the head of his own cock, biting his lip and groaning. "I need you inside me," Castiel stole Dean's sanity. He removed his fingers and started sliding slowly into the tight, puckered flesh.

"Fuck Cas," Dean wrapped himself around the slight frame, enjoying the contact between their bodies. He wrapped his hand around the younger man's girth. "You feel so good," he panted into Castiel's shoulder.

"Tighter," Castiel groaned out. Dean gathered the fluid leaking from Castiel's head and slicked up his cock. He pumped in time with his thrusts causing the room to fill with rough moans.

"Are you feeling me?" Dean whispered in Castiel's ear in a breathy voice.

"Yes," Castiel reached back and pulled Dean's hair, feeling like he'd lose his mind with passion.

"Do you like that?" he squeezed Castiel's plump rod.

"Dean," Castiel cried brokenly.

"Oh God," Dean's movements hastened, "Cas, I'm gonna ahh."

"Dean," Castiel spilled thick white fluid on the floor. Dean gripped him tighter, spilling his seed into him.

"Fuck Cas," Dean panted into the back of his neck.

"Dean..." Castiel turned he face so he could see Dean's, "Am I imagining things... or did you not use a condom?"

"Uhm," Dean swallowed, "You said I should take you, that you needed me, inside you."

"Could you...?" Castiel pushed Dean back. Dean pulled out of Castiel's tight little ass. "This is why I can't do this with you," Castiel pulled up his slacks and underwear. "I'm not the guy who picks up strangers in bars. I'm jealous and I'm afraid of having rashes and things. Believe me I've made my share of stupid sexual decisions but I'm a boyfriend," he removed his handkerchief and wiped his semen off the kitchen surfaces.

"Okay," Dean nodded after pacing a little, "I can do that."

"Do what?" Castiel blinked, standing up.

"Be your boyfriend," Dean answered.

"It's a bad idea," Castiel was talking to Dean and to himself.

"I've done a nine block walk of shame with a third degree burn," Dean reminded him, "Trust me, I know it's a bad idea. Let me come home with you anyway."

Castiel cradled Dean's face and gave him a tender kiss. "Be straight with me, okay?" Castiel's blue orbs were vulnerable.

"Okay," Dean kissed Castiel's forehead. His life was now complicated on toast. There was a reason he didn't have boyfriends. He was afraid Castiel would find out. He was afraid of what Castiel would do if he did find out but he was too afraid to tell him. For the first time in his life he was sleeping with a man he was afraid to lose.


	5. Chapter 5

"Sir?" Castiel peaked into Dean's office.

"Come in," Dean waved.

"This is a business thing, right?" Castiel entered.

"Of course," Dean got up from his desk and closed the door, "I mean serious business," he pushed Castiel further into the office and started kissing him.

"Dean," the young man's complaint turned into a moan, "We have to work," he whined.

"Sam can live without you for the next twenty minutes," Dean pulled off Castiel's tie, "I can't."

"Damn you," Castiel tore Dean's jacket off and pushed him into a file cabinet. Castiel lifted Dean off his feet and carried him to the desk. This was new. Castiel took advantage of Dean's surprise and worked his buttons quickly, kissing his way down his chest. Dean soften under his attentions, falling back onto the desk moaning. Castiel pushed Dean further onto the desk so he could kneel between his legs.

Paper and stationary got either crumpled, broken or pushed to the floor. "Did you lock the door?" Castiel asked as he undid Dean's pants.

"Mh-hm," Dean responded as he unbuttoned Castiel's shirt. That was it for the talk. All was grinding, grunting, kissing and frantic undressing. Castiel pulled a bottle of lube out of Dean's top drawer. Yep, sex in the office wasn't a first. He poured some on his fingers and since he was doing it single handed the bottle lay on its side and some of its contents dripped onto some very official documents. Castiel put his fingers to Dean's entrance.

"Uh Cas," Dean's cheeks clenched.

"Yeah," Castiel's voice was so low and gravelly Dean could barely make out the word. Dean didn't respond, only a small sound escaped him. Castiel inserted one finger into him.

"Cas," Dean's voice became even higher. Castiel moaned in response and pushed his finger further inside. "Cas," Dean gripped his wrist.

"You're not gonna tell me we have to stop, are you?" Castiel looked like he might burst into tears.

"No, I just... uh," Dean blushed.

"You've never done this before," Castiel realised. He and Dean had been sleeping together for almost a month now and Dean had never bottomed in that time. It didn't completely slip Castiel's notice but it wasn't like he was keeping score. Dean's face turned scarlet. "You'll like it," Castiel swirled his finger, "Relax," he started nipping Dean's neck. He worked slowly, pressing further inside when Dean relaxed until he had three slick fingers buried inside the other man. He pulled his fingers out and slicked up his cock.

Castiel pulled his lips from Dean's and entered him slowly. Savouring the tight, moist heat. Dean bit Castiel's shirt covered bicep. By the time Castiel was buried inside Dean the burn between Dean's cheeks was nothing to the one on Castiel's arm. Castiel moved one hand between their bodies and stroked Deans length, causing the other man to relax his jaw. Moving slowly, he stroked and kissed Dean. A growl escaped Castiel in his effort at restraint and he felt Dean's cock twitch against him.

"That's good," Dean moaned, "Yeah."

"Fuck," Castiel moved harder and faster. He arched his back and watched Dean's face redden, twist and contort in pleasure. He stroked harder and fucked faster. "God Dean" Castiel plunged into the tight ring of muscle. "I'm gonna come," he warned. Dean responded by throwing his head back and moaning a deep rumbling moan. Castiel jerked Dean faster, not wanting to be the only one to reach his climax. Just as he giving up on holding back his orgasm Dean started to spill into his hand. He spilled into Dean in spasms right after. "Hot damn," Castiel collapsed on top of lax muscles.

"Mhhh," Dean brushed Castiel's hair lazily.

"Hey, oh for the love of God," Sam took a step inside then moved back and slammed the door shut. "Mr Winchester's previous meeting is taking longer than anticipated. Scotch anyone?"

"It's ten forty five," one of his clients pointed out.

"I know," Sam led them away.

"You said you locked the door," Castiel hissed as they got dressed. Dean knew better than to open his mouth at this point, "You said you locked the door and my boss walked in on us."

"I'll handle Sam," Dean promised.

"And that is why it's frowned upon to screw your boss," Castiel sneered.

"Come on baby, don't be mad," Dean fixed Castiel's tie. The blue eyed man slapped his hand away. Dean lifted Castiel's chin and kissed him.

"I hate that I can't stay mad at you," Castiel put his hands behind Dean's neck and pulled him close. They didn't kiss. They just stood there with their foreheads together and small smiles on their faces.

"You done yet? Or should I tell our paying clients to give you more time?" Sam walked back in. Castiel put some distance between himself and Dean.

"I'll get back to work," Castiel tried to smooth his hair.

"One thing first," Sam closed the door behind him, "The sex, on every surface, in every room of this building, it stops now or so help me God I will sanction anti-fraternisation rules."

"Come now Sam," Dean smiled.

"No," Sam shook his head, "I've never seen you this happy before so I let you get away with this insanity for the past month. Now you need to act like an adult."

"You know what your problem is, Sam?" Dean pointed, "You don't know what it is to be passionate about anything. You fight with people just to butt heads, I break into your house in the middle of the night and I find you and your wife in pyjamas. I'll lock the door next time but that's it. I'm not gonna apologise for the fact that I've found the one person I can't stand to be without. And you're not gonna make him suffer for it."

"We have a meeting to get to," Sam pulled the door open roughly.

"The very least you could do is care that you're miserable," Dean growled at his brother.

"And how would that help?" Sam looked at his brother sadly before he left the room. For the first time since the day they met Castiel thought of Sam as a human being.

"Sorry about that," Dean turned to Castiel.

"It's okay," Castiel took his hand and kissed his knuckles, "I have to go back to work," he said.

"Lunch?" Dean asked.

"I doubt that very much," Castiel backed out of the room, "And I have to go pitch Winchesters Insurance to some guy who lives a solid four hours from here and nowhere near an airport so I'll probably see you tomorrow."

"Well then come back here and kiss me," Dean felt his heart clench already. Castiel did as he was instructed. He meant it to be a short kiss but Dean pulled him closer and held tight. Castiel pushed back and Dean ended up on his ass on the desk. He hissed a little in pain.

"I'm not sure whether that makes me feel guilty or turns me on," Castiel smiled as he pulled back.

"You're an ass," Dean pushed him and gathered his proposals.

"Who would have thought _you'd_ ever have occasion to say that to_ me_?" Castiel waited for Dean. They may as well leave together now.

"We live and we learn," Dean handed the sheets to Castiel, who knew how it would look if he left his boss's office empty handed while said boss carried his own crap. They didn't flaunt their relationship. That's not to say nobody knew. It was one of those things very few people knew to be more than a rumour. Dean had something of a reputation and Castiel kept to himself. He was always busy and he wasn't the most approachable of people. Also, hanging around Sam so much made him cranky and snubby. They parted with a small peck at the door and Castiel went to pick up the proposals and quotes and crap for his meeting. One of Dean's assistants would take over for him for the rest of the day, poor child.

After five hours on the road (one little wrong turn added sixty minutes to the drive) Castiel had finally arrived at the house of Cupid Richings. He hadn't gone into the family business, no that would be too easy. Castiel was ninety nine percent sure that Sam had sent him out here because Cupid's currently uninsured company was Erotic Essentials. Yeah, this wouldn't be awkward at all. When he got to the house Castiel took a deep breath and rang the bell. The door swung open and revealed... everything!

"You must be Castiel," the naked man pulled him into a tight embrace. Castiel was trying his very best not to be offensive but come one! A naked man was rubbing up against him and it wasn't fun. No wonder Sam had been smiling when he'd given him this assignment.

"Uh, Mr Um," Castiel rubbed the side of his neck not knowing where to look.

"Cupid hun," the chubby man took him by the hand and led him into the house, "Call me Cupid."

_At least Cupid had the good sense to cover up the important bits_ Castiel grumbled in his head. They were going to talk about risks attributable to making vibrators and thunder beads for pete's sake. Did there really have to be an actual penis on display? "May I ask why you never insured your business?" Castiel walked faster so he could keep up with Cupid rather than walk behind him.

"The Lord giveth and he taketh away," the smiling man shrugged. Castiel was happy to have his hand back.

"That was before the Lord invented insurance," Castiel blurted. He had trouble holding his tongue in uncomfortable situations. Cupid just laughed, much to Castiel's relief.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

"Whiskey please," Castiel threw professionalism to the wind. If this guy could be naked at a business meeting then Castiel could drink.

"Non-alcoholic beverages only sugar," Cupid smiled apologetically.

"Just my luck," Castiel mumbled.

"Pardon?" Cupid squinted.

"Just water please," Castiel restructed.

"Coming right up," Cupid said with cheer that was hard to believe. He disappeared and came back with a glass of water and a glass of green goo.

"Why would you want to risk all this?" Castiel looked around the large room, "You can obviously afford the premiums so what do you have against insurance?"

"Honestly?" Cupid tilted his head, "I like the possibility of change. I'll feel like I'm stuck here otherwise."

"Pardon me for saying this but that is insane," Castiel looked the man in the eye, "Vacation on beach in a trailer," Castiel pulled an example of what he knew of Sam's edited version of Cupid's past, "Make a timetable and split your time between here and there. Being rich doesn't mean you can't leave this place and you don't have to be penniless to go back to your former home."

"That's not moving forward," Cupid shook his head, "It's moving back and forth between the same two points"

"See this is what I don't get about people," Castiel didn't mean to say it out loud but he continued since he had, "Why can't they be content when life is good?"

"People are obsessed with the possibility of more," Cupid answered, "But I, personally, am content. And I'll be just as content if my situation should change. True happiness is being happy when you have everything and happy when you have nothing."

"Excuse me," Castiel stood up, "Which way is the restroom?"

"There's one right down the hall," the older man pointed. Castiel went to the bathroom and called Dean.

"I hate your brother," he hissed into the phone, "For two minutes this morning I thought he was a human being but now I have seen the error of my ways."

"What did he do?" Dean asked.

"He sent me to negotiate with a grabby, happy-go-lucky nudist without so much as a heads up," Castiel closed the toilet and sat on it.

"Cupid," Dean couldn't help but laugh, "That's just the way he greets everyone."

"He's smiley and cheerful and asking to be kicked in the teeth," Castiel rubbed his temples.

"We all want to kick him in the teeth," Dean admitted, "I just tell myself that no one's that happy."

"What I wouldn't give to see you naked right now," Castiel sighed.

"You want me to touch myself in my office Cas?" Dean's breath hitched, "Because I will."

"Get your hand off your crotch Dean," Castiel smirked, "I'm not having phone sex with you in a stranger's bathroom."

"Have fun with the nudist," Dean jeered.

"Bite me," Castiel cut the the call. Next he dialled Sam.

"Samuel Winchester," he answered the phone.

"No one likes to be ambushed by naked people," Castiel admitted, "I've learn my lesson. Can I come back now?"

"No," Sam said simply, "You still have to pay your debt to society."

"Whatever it takes," Castiel resisted the impulse to say something stupid.

"Bring me back a client," Sam put pressure on Castiel, "And don't be smarmy," he cut the call. Castiel flushed the toilet and washed his hands just to delay. He decided to try a different approach with Cupid.

"I met some of your family once," he said, "A lot of them are in the casino business."

"Daddy issues," Cupid laughed it off, "They're all desperate for his approval. I'm secure enough in myself and in his love for me to deviate from the pattern."

"But why...uh... Erotic Essentials?" Castiel rubben the side of his neck. This would be a lot more comfortable a topic if this man wore clothes.

"I love love," Cupid said with a huge smile, like it should make perfect sense to everyone, "And nothing makes me happier than helping people keep it alive."

"And if your factory caught fire? Who would do that for people then?" Castiel asked, "Because honestly I came here expecting Larry Flint but the way you talk about love makes me a little less embarrassed that I'm falling for my boss. I can't let you play Russian Roulette with that kind of wisdom."

"I've never heard it pitched like that before," Cupid's face lit up even more. Castiel wondered if the man's cheeks hurt yet.

"What do you say?" Castiel smiled back.

"Get me a quote," Cupid gave in.

"Everything you need is in there," Castiel slid the bound papers over. Cupid paged through them.

"You brought me a contract?" his brows knitted.

"My boss isn't good with 'No'," Castiel laughed.

"I will fax these to my lawyer," Cupid picked up the folder, "Would you like a tour of the house?" he asked.

"I have a long way to drive," Castiel declined, "Have your lawyer call me," he handed a business card over. Stupid Cas, didn't see the hug coming again. This time he managed to pat Cupid on the back. "It was nice meeting you," Castiel said.

"It was nice meeting you too sweetie," Cupid waved from the door. Castiel felt a sense of accomplishment having done something that had defied so many people. He turned up the music and drove home. Somewhere in the middle of more nowhere he passed a man on foot. His guilt made him reverse.

"Need a ride?" he rolled down the window.

"A man on foot with nothing around but grasslands. What would make you think that?" the dirty blond man asked.

"I have no qualms leaving you here to fend for yourself," Castiel revved the engine.

"You wouldn't have backed up if that were true," the stranger argued, "Now are you going to unlock this door or what?"

Castiel shook his head and unlock the door. "What's your name and what day is it?" the short man asked his when he'd gotten into the car.

"Castiel and it's Wednesday," he turned to look at the man beside him in confusion.

"You just picked up a strange man at dusk in a pretty slick company car," the stranger shrugged, "I'm just trying to gauge your mental state."

"What's your name?" Castiel asked with a laugh.

"Are you trying to gauge my mental state?" the blond man smiled.

"Would you like to walk?" Castiel asked.

"Loki," the passenger answered. Castiel didn't comment on the name. The act annoyed him to end so he wouldn't perpetrate it. If he had known of the headaches this small man would give him by the end of the night maybe he'd have left him on the side of the road.

**AN: Don't forget to review**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Writing (and rewriting and rewriting) Gabriel was A LOT harder than I thought and I still feel pretty insecure about this chapter so please review. I like to keep my readers happy. Please forgive me for ignoring Christmas and the rest of it. There's a lot I want to work into this plot. **

"So, where are you going?" Castiel asked his passenger.

"Wherever you're going," Gabriel answered honestly. Castiel looked at him out of the corner of his eye. This man obviously didn't mean the obvious sexual implication.

"What?" he turned his head and looked at him directly.

"Let's say I'm taking an extended round the world trip by method of getting off wherever my ride stops," said Gabriel, "If it stops at an airport I get on a plane. Wouldn't expect your provincial-looking ass to understand."

"I didn't see a car where I picked you up," Castiel remembered.

"Slight difference of opinion with the driver," Gabriel shrugged.

"Forgive my complete lack of surprise," Castiel scoffed.

"Oh look," Gabriel startled Castiel into focusing on the road, "More grasslands."

"You're a pleasure to drive with," Castiel sneered as his heart-rate started its drop back to normal, seeing that there was nothing but straight road ahead of him.

"You're a jelly bean," Gabriel concluded.

"What?" this made no sense to Castiel.

"People are like sweets," Gabriel started, pulling a candy bar out of his pants.

"That's one I haven't heard," the raven haired youth laughed in surprise.

"Looking at you I see a smooth, almost marble-like surface," Gabriel explained, "See, jelly beans, those little suckers never have the slightest blemish. And they have that little hard layer on the outside but it's not hard to breach. They're soft inside, kinda warm but not quite," he paused and studied Castiel, "You're happy, almost determinedly so. You're one of those people that have a valid reason to be miserable but somehow overlook it. Whatever that is you're hiding it. I can tell by that pinched, uptight look you have."

"That's pretty good shrinking for a bum," Castiel smiled his small, strange little smile. Gabriel broke into a fit of laughter.

"I've never thought of myself as a bum," he laughed.

"Free rides, no mailing address, you're a bum," Castiel pointed out.

"Straight talker with a sense of humor," Gabriel still had laughter in his voice, "I admire you Castiel, and don't let the ease with which I say it confuse you into thinking that's a sentence that passes my lips frequently."

"I'm happy to have the approval of a grown man with lollipops sticking out of his jacket," Castiel chuckled.

"At least I have a shirt that fits," Gabriel returned, munching away. Castiel looked down at his shirt. He'd bought it thinking he might still grow. Yeah, that hadn't quite panned out. Now he was stuck with shirts that didn't fit. "Where am I going anyway?" Gabriel broke the silence that was fast becoming painful.

"Vegas, you'll like it," Castiel was sure, "It's the Mecca of rolling stones."

"Oh the irony," Gabriel burst into fits of laughter.

"What?" the driver inquired, "Spit it out," Castiel said after a listening to the short blond laugh long enough to be annoyed.

"Aren't we demanding?" Gabriel stalled.

"I've been on the outside of many many jokes," Castiel said with a blank look on his face.

"I'm more of a runaway than a bum," Gabriel admitted.

"Afraid to go home?" Castiel asked sympathetically.

"Let's say unwilling," Gabriel replied after tilting his head in thought. He wasn't scared, he just didn't want to go home. "Whoever said 'dysfunctional family' is redundant was talking about mine. I know how typical that sounds but I have a father who destroyed three marriages and had the love of his life die on him, four siblings who slept with the same guy I did and two brothers who might have literally killed each other in my absence, fighting over the affection of a man whose heart is made of stone."

"I'm so sad for you," Castiel rolled his eyes.

"I get that a lot," Gabriel nodded, "Poor little rich kid. How hard could his life be? What does he know about misery?" he made snooty voices.

"You're 'old money',"Castiel realized, "Hence the inflamed sense of tragedy."

"Shut your cake-hole," Gabriel hissed, "You don't know dick about my family, or my tragedy."

"I'm sorry," Castiel genuinely was, "I don't mean to impugn your familial discord it's just, I've never had a family so any kind sounds good to me."

"I won't _impugn_ your pain by telling you that you don't want my family," Gabriel's lightness was back.

"Go home," Castiel said simply.

"No," Gabriel folded his arms petulantly.

"I'm not all that good at armchair psychology but I do know that issues with family, or lack thereof, screw with the every aspect of your life," the younger man said gently.

"I'll take 'screwed up' for two hundred," the blond raised his hand like he was at an auction.

"You're an idiot," Castiel laughed hollowly as he shook his head.

"Everything looks so simple from the outside," his passenger looked upon his textbook view of the situation.

"Mainly because it's simple," said Castiel.

"What do you think of telling everyone in your life your dirty little secret?" Gabriel looked at Castiel pointedly.

"Don't confuse simple with easy," Castiel said as he thought about admitting to Dean what he refused to admit to himself most days.

"Something about you strikes me Castiel," Gabriel had a strange feeling he couldn't identify, "I see myself in you, maybe its the fact that we're both named after angels."

"Maybe it's my lack of a brain-to-mouth filter," the younger man thought about their only similarity, and even there his companion had them beat, "Loki is not an angel's name," it occurred to him.

"It's not mine either," the hitchhiker's easy laugh passed his lips, "Nice catch Angel of Thursday. I'm Gabriel."

"Your last name wouldn't be Ritchings, would it?" Castiel asked. Gabriel was short of a response for once. It could be good or really bad to have his name tied to his surname. "What are the odds?" pale hands left the steering wheel briefly.

"What have you heard?" Gabriel sighed.

"Not nearly as much as you think I have," Castiel laughed in his throat, "I just came from your brother's house."

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down," said Gabriel.

"He has an acute dislike for cotton, silk and polyester," Castiel snorted.

"Ah Cupid," Gabriel smiled affectionately, "The man who keeps the world _uplifted_," he wiggled his brows.

"I can see the resemblance," Castiel laughed at the double meaning, "But how you're related to Lucifer and Raphael is hard to imagine," he contrasted the personalities in his mind. Lucifer and Raphael were mean and imposing, hell they were downright megalomaniacal. Cupid and Gabriel could make people uncomfortable, that was sure but they were cheerful people. One annoyingly so.

"Ironically Lucifer was my favorite brother," Gabriel had a distant look in his eyes, remembering things past, "He taught me a whole lot of crap, most of it I wasn't supposed to know or do. He gave me his motorcycle when I was fifteen. Death was furious," he smiled nostalgically.

"I think that version of him skipped town with you," Castiel said somberly.

"I think the new version will be just as pissed with the absence of his beloved Harley," Gabriel thought of his brother's temper. The kind of destruction he wreaked was far worse than bodily harm. "Help me retrieve it, would you?" he asked.

"Done," Castiel said easily, "Where is it?"

"Let's get to Vegas first," Gabriel smiled. He squinted at the cassette player then pushed play. He listened to thirty seconds of an Asia song then stopped it.

"How'd you come by this car?" he had to ask. The world couldn't be this small.

"My boyfriend lent it to me," Castiel smiled without knowing he did so.

"You're with Dean," Gabriel turned the idea over in his head, "How'd Mikey take that?"

"He was hurt," Castiel had seen that clearly.

"That tends to happen when you dabble in matters of the heart with a Winchester," Gabriel shrugged. Silence fell between them again. Castiel had it bad for Dean, he wasn't denying that, but he sensed, like everyone else, that it would end in heartbreak. It was long after dark by the time they got to Las Vegas. Gabriel gave half-remembered directions and wanted to make a stop so it took a while for them to find the place.

"It's an impound lot," Castiel observed, "Let's come back tomorrow," he suggested, "When it's open."

"We can if you want to but I don't see the point," Gabriel opened his door, "I'll have my bike by then."

"What if there are guards?" Castiel grabbed Gabriel's arm, preventing him from exiting the vehicle.

"Bribery, my good man," Gabriel pointed to their parcel.

"Raw ground beef?" Castiel widened his eyes at him.

"It'll distract those hell hounds you hear barking. Come on," Gabriel climbed out of the car after giving Castiel a nudge.

"This is so stupid," Castiel got out of the car.

"Make balls or whatever and throw them in that direction," Gabriel pointed down the fence.

"You can't take that bike," Castiel tried to reason with Gabriel, all the while sensing it was futile.

"It's _my_ bike. It's should be in _my_ possession," the other man pulled a small pair of pliers out of his pocket. Castiel did not even want to know why he kept them there.

"It doesn't matter if you own the thing. Your entitlement to take possession of it will be decided by a jury of your peers," he hissed as squatted and started making crude little patties. Gabriel simply laughed under his breath as he went about cutting a little gate he could drive through.

"Go get it little doggies," Castiel hurled a patty as far inside as he could. A giggle fought its way up his throat but he squashed it. This idiotic thing he was doing was a little thrilling. He couldn't have Gabriel knowing that. "Oh shit," he noticed that someone else had cut a makeshift gate in the fence. He turned his face to the side and discovered that his partner in crime was already inside. When the dogs came back it would be easy for them to push the fence out of the way.

"Loki," Castiel whispered a scream. "Gabriel," Castiel's voice rose with his frustration. He could get in the car and drive away but what if the bike was out of gas or had some other malfunction that could cause Blondie to be eaten by dogs. He could follow the moron but that could result in them both being attacked by ravening mutts. Standing outside by the compromised fence left him vulnerable to slaughter of a brutal kind. "Fuck it," he ran inside. He could see light that was most definitely from a flashlight and followed it.

"Eureka!" Gabriel screamed jovially. Noise was an open invitation to guard dogs. They reached him just as Castiel did. Fortunately for Gabriel he wasn't the one covered in food the dogs were so fond of. He came through in a way Castiel didn't expect though, attacking one of the dogs with his pliers. Castiel kicked the other as it jumped for his hand. It caught him by the leg of his trousers. "Lose the slacks," Gabriel advised, whacking the other dog. Castiel loosened his belt, jumping and flailing. He wiggled till they fell. When the dog he was hitting fell to the ground Gabriel tried desperately to start his bike. Castiel fell. Having his pants around his ankles made it hard to stay vertical. He kicked wildly as the threat of a dog's teeth on his naked flesh became more imminent. The bike started, finally. Gabriel grabbed him, pulled him across his lap and drove away. The dog won the pants and Castiel's feet scraped the ground as motorcycle ran.

When they were a safe distance away from the barking Gabriel stopped his ride so Castiel could get on properly. "I'm in my boxers," the younger man yelled.

"It's two a.m. In Vegas. Pants are optional," Gabriel dismissed.

"I left Dean's car back there," Castiel pointed, "He loves that car."

"You wanna fight a rottweiler for it?" the older man asked pointedly.

"I'm gonna kill you," Castiel got on behind Gabriel.

"Hold on tight," Gabriel revved his engine. Castiel gripped him and buried his face in dirty-blond hair. He closed his eyes, wondering how Gabriel could see: driving at this speed without a helmet. Just when he thought this night would be salvageable sirens started blaring behind them.

"Pull over," Castiel shouted. Gabriel ignored him until they were cut off by a police vehicle. He made a ninety degree turn and laid down three feet of rubber and stopped a millimeter from the police vehicle.

"That was a short ride," Gabriel sighed. Castiel had to clench his fists to keep from strangling him.

"Put your hands up and walk towards the vehicle," a practiced voice instructed. They complied: one man smirking, the other glaring at him. "You are under arrest for trespassing, destruction of property and theft," they were cuffed.

_Wait till they find the dead dog_ Gabriel thought with a chuckle. His companion seemed like the type to have a bug up his ass about being charged with cruelty to animals. Their rights were read to them and they were shoved into the back of the car. "I commend you for your response time gentlemen," Gabriel had a small smile on his face, "But surely there must be more pressing matters at this time of the morning in Vegas."

"Shut up," the officer slammed the door. Castiel banged his head against the metal net separating them from the car.

"Haven't you suffered enough bodily hard today?" Gabriel asked him.

"I am in the back of a car with red and blue lights on the top. Today's not the day to assess my good sense," was the groaned answer.

"Say gentlemen," Gabriel turned his attention to the officers, "Is there anyway-"

"Cork it," one of the men in the front of the car cut him off, "It's two in the morning, I am in no mood to process a bribery charge."

Gabriel laughed under his breath. Castiel kicked him. They were silent for the rest of the ride. "Busy night," Gabriel looked around when they entered the police station.

"I can tell you're going to be a joy to have around," one of the booking officers said to Gabriel.

"May I have my phone call while we wait?" Gabriel asked in a sugary voice.

"We don't owe till we book you," he was met with a phoney smile, "I'm sure you and your boyfriend can figure out some way to entertain yourselves."

"How about a kiss to entertain the crowd Cassie?" Gabriel turned to the man beside him with a smile. Castiel kicked him in the shin, hard.

Gabriel yelped and jumped awkwardly on one leg. There was scattered laughter from the officers and a few comments from the other men being arrested.

"I didn't know you liked to play rough," Gabriel said when he'd caught his breath.

"Heavenly father, help me in my day of need. This fuck wants to die by my hand," Castiel cut his eyes at Gabriel. There was more laughter. Only when Castiel had his possessions put in a paper bag, his picture taken under bad lighting and his fingers marked with shaming black ink was he allowed to make a call. He took a deep breath then dialed Dean's number. He was reluctant but he didn't have anyone else to call.

"What?" Dean grumbled into the phone.

"Dean, hi," Castiel said nervously.

"Castiel," Dean recognized his voice, even clouded by sleep, "This will make no sense to you because you're twenty two, fresh out of college and you work for my brother but _I need sleep_."

"And I need you to bail me out of the pokey," Castiel used the bull in a china shop approach. Beating around the bush after three in the morning does no one any good.

"Why are you in jail?" Dean rolled out of bed and stumbled to the closet.

"I was under the spell of an insane man on a sugar high," Castiel asked, "Please come get me. I cannot spend a night in a cell with meth-heads and pimps."

"I'll be right there," Dean promised when Castiel told him where he was being held.

"Castiel," Gabriel walked up to him as he was being delivered back to the cell.

"Go stand over there," Castiel pointed to another corner of the crammed room. Gabriel sighed and did as he was told.

"Hey there Pretty," another captive approached Castiel when the officer who'd returned him to the cell had left. Gabriel pulled the man roughly by the hair and slammed him face first into the wall.

"Don't talk to him," he said when he'd brought the man down to his level, "It makes him uncomfortable." The big man struggled but found he could not move.

"Okay man," he lifted his hands in surrender. Gabriel pulled him back and threw him into the middle of the room.

"Thanks,"Castiel smiled, "How did you do that?"

"I eat my wheaties," a crooked smile worked its way across Gabriel's face. Castiel laughed. He didn't get anymore trouble than a curse from an injured man in the fifteen minutes it took Dean to arrive. The green eyed man beat the officer to the holding cell.

"Cas, are you okay?" he stood at the bars.

"I am now," Castiel rushed over and put his hands over Dean's.

"What happened?" he looked at Castiel's bare legs, "If any of you sons of bitches put a hand on him-"

"Dean," Castiel put his hand through the bars and turned Dean's face back to him, "No one touched me. I... got arrested without pants... a dog ate them, I swear. Ask him."

"Loki?" Dean's eyes popped out of his skull.

"Hello Dean," Gabriel stood up.

"You two look happy to see each other," Castiel mumbled, looking back and forth between the two glaring men.

"Yeah," both men said with sour expressions.

"Would you post his bail?" Castiel smiled nervously at Dean.

"No," was the immediate response.

"Please," the pale man looked up at Dean from his under his eyelashes.

"Fine," his boyfriend caved.

"Thanks," Castiel kissed him through the bars.

"Okay, move it ladies. I haven't got all night for this soap opera," the turnkey grumbled. Castiel rushed out of the cell and went to collect his belongings. Boy was he glad to be out of there! Gabriel operated at a more leisurely pace.

"Castiel's a nice kid," he said as he walked out with Dean, "He doesn't need you going all man-whore on him."

"One, Kettle, Pot," he pointed to himself then to Gabriel, "Two, a lot has changed in your eight year absence Gabriel, including me," Dean replied.

"Did this transformation you went through involve a divorce?" the short man asked.

"Does my brother know you're back in town?" Dean sneered.

"Now you be the kettle and I'll be the pot," Gabriel walked past him.

"Gabriel," Dean grabbed his arm.

"I won't tell him," the older man predicted what was coming, "But you better share soon. I'm going to leave out all the very many ways he could find out just walking down the street and say this: Micheal has taken more rejection from you than I thought any man would willingly subject himself to. This dewy eyed romance you're pitching, will be the straw that breaks the camel's back and no one tears down those who hurt him quite like my brother."

"I know," Dean looked at the floor as he thought back to the apocalyptic feud between Micheal and Lucifer. He would tell Castiel as soon as he could. Only... When was the right time to tell your boyfriend that you were married with a kid?

**Don't forget to review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Some fifteen years ago...**

"I don't want to go to the stupid camp," Sam said to his brother.

"Sam you've been to this stupid camp twice without complaints. What is with you all of a sudden?" Dean asked.

"You're not going," the younger brother pointed out in a whiny voice.

"I'm too old," Dean shrugged.

"It's a camp for teenage boys. You're nineteen," Sam sat down, clearly in protest.

"Dad is not making me go this year," Dean smirked, "You go hike up mountains and shit in the forest. I'll stay here, where the strippers need me."

"_I_ need you, you jackass," Sam threw the closest thing he could get his hands on at his brother, his pillow.

"You've grown eight inches since last year and I'm pretty sure you've gained forty pounds. I don't think they'll be calling you Snoopy anymore," Dean slapped his brother's shoulder.

"I'm gonna get the crap kicked out of me, Dick," Sam hit Dean square in the chest. His brother did not move. Being the typical teenage boy, Dean's muscles were his pride. Sam had not yet come into his full potential.

"Oh don't worry about that," the big brother assured, "The Ritchings Brothers are going to look out for you."

"It must be nice to have a best friend with his own private army," Sam was calmer now. Dean chuckled under his breath. He and Michael were best friends alright. The first time Michael had gotten drunk, Dean had supplied the scotch (John had not been happy with finding tea in a bottle that had once contained a twelve year old single malt). The first time Michael had gone to strip club, okay that was Gabriel. The first time Michael had woken up naked in a cornfield... yeah, Dean had been a lot of firsts. Death's dark haired last born was only two years older than Sam and was therefore not supposed to be doing any of the aforementioned things but he was quite taken with the eldest Winchester and vice versa. They weren't sure how their fathers would handle it though so it was all kept quiet... meaning half the teenagers in town knew and the adults were clueless.

"Being one of eleven children has its perks," Dean shrugged, "And being richer than God doesn't hurt."

"Sammy, it's time to go," their father poked his head into Sam's room.

"You people need to stop calling me that," Sam grumbled as he threw his bag over his shoulder. The camp he was going to was a survival type deal so his luggage was minimal. Hey, with an ex-marine father those were the kinds of things you had to look forward to. He was picked up by a very big, very ugly thing somewhere between a bus and a truck.

"Have fun," Dean held back his laughter. The last time he had been on the trip the seniors were tossed into the wild to sleep in caves and the like. Sam gave him the bitch face. He pinched his nose so his father wouldn't see how hard he was working to keep himself together.

"You be careful," was his father's send off.

"Yes sir," Sam nodded and went inside.

"Dean," his father called as they headed back to the house, "Try not to drink too much now that a lack of big brother duties has freed up your time."

"What? Me?" Dean tried the smile that worked on most authority figures.

"Boy I am your father, I know better than to fall for that," John looked his first born.

"Sorry sir," Dean scratched behind his ear, "I promise to be responsible."

"At least you respect me enough to lie," John smiled. Dean shook his head and walked behind his father after the man had turned around. Dean was a college student. John knew what that was about. Excess, everything in excess.

"I'm gonna swing by my apartment," Dean notified his father.

"You've been in the house for all of five minutes," his mother came out of the kitchen, "Sam just left me. At least stay for dinner."

"Mom," Dean didn't like being guilted.

"Oh stop whining, your mother wants to put a home cooked meal into you before you go binge drinking," John went to kiss Mary's hair.

"John," she slapped him lightly on the stomach with the back of her hand. This is how Dean was conned into being three hours late to his own party. After a three course meal (were they kidding?) Dean left for his apartment.

"You're late," Michael opened the door and crossed his arms. He'd removed his shirt for some reason but Dean wasn't complaining.

"You started without me," Dean could tell Michael had a buzz going. He stuck his key in the door and locked it, leaving the key in its slot.

"I saved the party," the dark haired man pulled two pale pills out of his pocket. He popped both of them into his mouth and pulled Dean into a kiss, slipping him one. Dean undid Michael's belt as he swallowed the pill. Michael swallowed his own, working furiously to get Dean's shirt off. It was a party for two and it was just getting started. Sam's day, however, was not going as merrily. Each boy had to make his own tent. Being John Winchester's son he had a secure structure by sundown. While he was working hard another boy was replacing his insect repellent with a sweetener.

Each camper was given a laminated card they were to keep on their person the entire time. Boys ages thirteen to fifteen slept in a dorm, with the exception of Sam, who was a pro at this crap. Sixteen to nineteen slept in individual tents. The juniors got green cards while the seniors got orange ones. And no one left camp until every card was handed back and each child accounted for. There weren't really any activities during the first day other than getting yelled at for picking an inappropriate spot to pitch or another such fault. There was a camp fire if you were interested in getting to know the others.

Sam applied his insect repellent and went to the fire to look for his bodyguards. Needless to say he was covered in tiny little things with sharp biting instruments. Teenage boys being teenage boys they laughed themselves silly at his expense. "You really should know what insect repellent smells like by now," said Gordon as Sam passed him on the way back to his tent, "The great Winchester my ass."

Sam just glared at Gordon. The Winchester of camp legends was Dean and the moron was not here. "Walker," a voice came out of the shadows, "A word."

Gordon looked into the dark, seeing an outline but no features. The boy did not look intimidating. "You too Sam," he called when the gangly youth made to leave.

"What do you want?" Gordon asked when they were far away enough from the camp sight to have privacy for just about anything.

"I want you to apologise to Sam," the blond, almost a whole head shorter than Gordon, smirked. Gordon laughed.

"Thanks for trying to help," Sam approached his would-be hero, "But let's just go back to camp."

"You think you can go back to camp just like that," Gordon pushed Sam aside. Before his fingers could find purchase a firm hand grabbed his wrist and he was fed a knuckle sandwich. A vicious laugh passed Sam's lips before he could stop it. He watched as Gordon was punched on the body without being able to land a single punch in retaliation. When the bully was on his knees his assailant put a hand under his chin lifting it.

"Gabriel Richings," he introduced himself, "Anyone asks where you got the black eye, you caught the elbow of the guy helping you pitch your tent."

"What?" Gordon was disorientated. Gabriel pulled his hand back and hit Gordon in the face, sending him crashing to the ground. He took a step campward then stopping.

"Well?" Gabriel turned back to Sam, "You comin' or what?" Sam followed Gabriel, scratching non-stop. "Okay , you're coming to my tent for treatment." Sam didn't argue. His skin was on fire. The Winchester boy let out a surprised laugh when they got to the older boy's tent. It was huge, big enough to fit four people comfortably.

"Thank you," Sam walked inside. There was a blown up mattress about the fit for a double bed, a very soft looking comforter, a space heater, cooler box and various other things people do not bring to the side of the mountain.

"Here," Gabriel handed Sam a flask.

"I'm fifteen," the younger boy declined.

"I'm gonna put some ointment on your... everything," Gabriel saw that Sam's skin was mottled all over, "Fast-acting stuff. This will take the sting out of it."

Sam took the flask and sipped. The liquid burned but it had a sweet tone to it. Sam took two more swallows at Gabriel's encouragement. "Okay," Gabriel took his flask back, "Take off your clothes."

"What?" Sam pulled his shirt closed.

"I'm not trying to rob you of your innocence, at this point in time, I can't apply this through your clothes," he held up a metallic container that was a particularly ugly shade of green. Sam started removing his clothes. He was afraid that he might... embarrass himself. Sometimes he penis seemed to have a mind of its own. Gabriel put the heater on while Sam stripped to his underwear. "Bubble wrap," Gabriel laughed when the boy was down to his boxers. Sam gave a little huff and a glared, "Sorry," the older boy bit his lip. After putting the container by the heater a for a few seconds to warm it up then he took some in his hands and rubbed them together. When Gabriel put his hands on Sam's back it was a burst of tingling added to the warmth that was spreading through Sam's body from the alcohol. He gasped. There was a sting to the ointment.

Gabriel worked it into his skin speedily. "That burns," Sam complained.

"If you stop squirming so much I might feel a little sympathy for you," Gabriel worked faster despite his words. When he was sure Sam's body was saturated he offered the boy more alcohol. Sam took it without hesitation. He winced when his helper started in on the swelling in his cheeks. His eyes watered.

"What the hell is this stuff?" Sam asked.

"Your fairy godmother," Gabriel lifted Sam's arm so the other boy could see it. Sure enough it was as smooth as a baby's bottom.

"Wow," Sam marvelled.

"Almost done," Gabriel promised, working Sam's forehead. He swiped his thumb across the younger teen's chin then dragged his finger under it.

"What are you doing?" Sam moved back.

"I'm just looking," he dropped his hand slowly, tracing Sam's throat. The brunette did not move back this time. Gabriel leaned in and kissed the pulsing jugular. Sam shuddered. He wrapped his shaky arms around the older boy's neck. A skilled tongue worked its way up to the sensitive spot under Sam's jaw. The youth whimpered. Gabriel swirled his tongue and sucked, putting his hands around Sam's back to draw him closer. He pulled back again and this time kissed Sam on the mouth.

The initially reserved Samuel came to life. He weaved his hand through the blonde hair and gripped so tight Gabriel's skull tingled. Gabriel reciprocated by gripping Sam bruisingly. In a super quick movement Gabriel lifted Sam, flipped him and planted him on the mattress, landing between his legs. They were both hard, Gabriel rocked back and forth, rubbing their erections together. "That's good," Sam moaned. The blonde got on his knees and threw his shirt off. Sam giggled. Yes, actually giggled. To say Gabriel was toned would be vague and unjust. He was by no means bulky but he had a perfectly divided eight pack and his pectorals were just raised enough to make you want to sink your fingers into them till they bled. As he kissed Sam's neck Gabriel undid his pants and kicked them off.

"Am I doing this?" Sam moved to sit up.

"I don't know," Gabriel sat on his feet, "Are you?"

"No," Sam covered his exposed body as much as he could with his arms, "I-I can't," he sprang to his feet and made for the exit.

"Your biggest fan might still be a little sore about getting his ass kicked," Gabriel lay on his side. Sam stopped with a huff. "Look, I like corrupting little straight laced choir boys but I only put my hands where they're wanted."

Sam gnawed on his lip. What Gabriel raised was a valid concern but wasn't what he was thinking about. He couldn't like boys. It just wasn't on the cards in his family. He couldn't spend the night in bed with this particular boy but what was his other option? So he turned and went to lie down next to Gabriel.

"What are you afraid of?" the other boy asked.

"My father," Sam said to the roof, "My mother, my brother, myself," then he turned and looked at Gabriel, "You."

"You don't have to be afraid of me," Gabriel tucked Sam's hair behind his ear. He kissed the younger boy again, only halfway climbing on top of him. Sam kissed back wrapping his arms tentatively around Gabriel's neck.

"How would this work?" Sam pulled back, "If we were to... you know."

"Well I'd have to loosen you up," Gabriel slid his hand down Sam's body, bypassing his penis and cupping his ass, "Other than that the mechanics are the same."

"Won't there be, uh, um, won't it be messy?" Sam averted his eyes.

"There's a way to avoid that," Gabriel slid halfway off his mattress and pulled a bloated little container with a long tube attached to it from the pile of random things in the corner closest to their heads.

"Isn't that what they give you when you get a colonoscopy?" Sam blurted.

"Except it's not a camera that gets shoved up your ass," Gabriel grinned. Sam did not find it as amusing. His butt cheeks clenched and he looked down his nose at nothing in particular, "It's not nearly as violent as I made it sound just then."

Sam's heart was pounding so hard it was almost painful. "I want to do it," he confessed. For all his fear and doubt he was still hard. Gabriel pulled the bag under the covers and went back to kissing Sam. He pulled the boy's boxers down and explored. His pubic hair was soft to the touch, his skin was smooth.

"Pull your legs up," Gabriel rubbed Sam's thigh. The brunette complied, moving his feet closer to his ass. The sandy haired male put his hand under his pillow, finding his trusty bottle of lube and squirting some onto his fingers. He circled the puckered flesh at Sam's entrance then inserted one finger slowly.

"That is really uncomfortable," Sam squirmed.

"Give it a second," Gabriel started nibbling on his ear. When the tight ring of flesh did not try expel his finger he took the tube to the enema and pushed it in. Sam drew his breath in at the sudden coldness. Gabriel squeezed the bag, pumping the liquid out. "Come here," he leaned closer to Sam's face and kissed him again. When the bag was nearly empty Gabriel pulled it out.

"I'm gonna borrow this," Sam stood and took a coat. He wrapped the coat tightly around himself and wore his shoes but didn't bother to buckle them properly. He decided to use the dorm toilet, feeling like everyone somehow knew what he was planning to do. Inside Sam looked at himself in the mirror. He was flushed and sweaty. A lopsided smile appeared on his face. He suppressed a chuckle and splashed his face. The enema kicked in and he went inside a stall.

Back in his tent Gabriel was rather pleased with himself. "It's like shooting bottoms in a barrel," he smirked. A lot of parents sent their sons to this camp hoping to somehow degayify them by forcing them to do masculine activities. He took out a box of condoms. He wasn't counting on using more than one with the shy and nervous Winchester boy but a guy could hope. Sam came back to find Gabriel smoking a menthol cigarette.

"Are you going through the list of rules one by one?" Sam stood by the entrance.

"Hey, Death insists on sending us to this stupid camp. I'm just making it bearable for myself," he blew smoke upwards.

"Why is your father called Death?" Sam walked closer and sat down. Gabriel was the picture of ease: one hand resting on his pillow, the other in mid-air with a cigarette, looking up like he could see the sky. It made Sam even more attracted to him. It also made him more relaxed himself.

"Have you seen the guy? He looks like the grim reaper," Gabriel answered.

"He kinda does," Sam chuckled. He'd seen Death a handful of times. The man had one facial expression as far as he could tell and it was scary. "You guys are an all male clan, right?"

"No, I have two sisters actually," Gabriel thought of his sisters who, though pretty, had trouble getting boys because they had nine brothers, most of whom weren't known to be very nice.

"There are more of you?" Sam blurted, "I'm sorry but how can one man have so many children so fast? I mean, you and Rapheal and and Lucifer graduated with Dean."

"Dear old Death really got around before he met Mikey's mom," Gabriel shook his head. It was bordered on obscene. "Then he became monogamous and when she died he became celibate."

"That's so sad," Sam turned to lie on his stomach.

"Yeah, his football team wasn't yet complete," Gabriel deflected.

"You cannot be that blasé," the boy in his bed wasn't buying it.

"I'm not," Gabriel admitted, "But I wonder why he wanted so many children."

"Well...you can't really know that he did," Sam replied, "I'm sure he loves all of you but I doubt all eleven of you were planned."

"Death did not build an empire from scratch by being impulsive," Gabriel wouldn't hear it, "I may not know my father as intimately as someone who doesn't have ten siblings and a string of casino's also vying for his attention but I can tell you with absolute certainty that he is not a man who makes mistakes. Every decision he makes, no matter how convoluted the logic behind it, is deliberate."

"In that case he was building the perfect shareholder base to keep his business in the family," Sam replied, "You'd be hard pressed to get siblings to agree unanimously or by simple majority on that... or anything. AGM's will be a pain in the ass and so will picking a board of director's but after that none of you really need to be involved."

Out of nowhere Gabriel pounced on Sam, kissing him fiercely. After a shocked pause Sam started to reciprocate. Gabriel pulled Sam's boxers off with one hand and climbed on top of him. "I won't rush," he promised, feeling Sam's body tense up. The younger boy relaxed and they went on kissing and touching each other. Gabriel put some lubricant and started to loosen Sam, who moaned loudly enough to warrant putting on the radio. "The condoms are right under your head," Gabriel smiled down at Sam.

"Can I put it on?" Sam bit his lip. Gabriel sighed but agreed. This was sometimes a deal breaker. He got to his knees and pulled down his underwear as Sam opened the wrapper. The younger teen gasped when he got an eyeful of Gabriel. "I don't think my... it stretches that much," Sam shook his head.

"I know for a fact that it does," Gabriel plucked the condom from the slack hand and started putting it on himself hurriedly. "It's okay," he soothed, laying back down on top of Sam. The brunette just looked up at him with eyes the size of saucers. "I'll stop," he collapsed on top of the lithe body beneath his.

"Don't," Sam braced his arm against Gabriel's torso as the older teen started to slide off him. He'd already gotten this far and Gabriel seemed like a nice guy. Sure he'd heard a lot of crazy shit about him but it was badass crazy, maybe a little sexy too. "Don't stop," he moved his hand up and down his back.

"God yes," Gabriel repositioned himself. He stroked Sam a few times with his still slick hands and entered him slowly. Sam whined, gripping the comforter. When he was fully sheathed Gabriel pause to let Sam adjust. "You're so fucking tight," he started to move, stroking Sam as he went. The young Winchester put his arms around his neck and kissed him, moving slowly back and forth as they got into a rhythm. "Shhh," Gabriel said into his ear, "We have neighbours."

When he felt his orgasm approach he started stroking Sam faster and covered his mouth with his own to minimise the noise. The only audio evidence of their orgasms were garbled sounds. Sam winced a little as Gabriel pulled out of him. "So," he laid down next to Sam, "Anything like you imagined?" he ran a finger up his torso.

"I, um," Sam looked down and blushed. Gabriel pulled his chin in his direction and kissed him. There was no fever in this one, just the cool caress of lips against others. The slide of a hand down the side of a young man's face and the touch of bodies without tension.

"Go to sleep," Gabriel put out the light. Sam curled into Gabriel, put his head on the guy's chest and closed his eyes. Gabriel just smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam. That's really when the boy started to grow on him.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: So we're taking another trip to the past in my imaginary time machine. Judging by your response to the last one it won't be very popular. Alas, it's central to the story. **

**Eight or so years ago.**

"Lisa, I don't like doing this," Dean grumbled as he parked outside the seedy motel.

"I know but please Dean," she pouted and gave him a puppy dog look similar to the one Sam does and apparently just as effective.

"Fine but this is the last time," he got out of the Impala as she exited from the passenger side. They checked into the hotel and asked for a king sized bed.

"Here," she gave him about two dozen quarters, "You never have change."

"This might not be half bad," he pocketed them and went inside the room they had just rented. Lisa ducked around the corner and went to be with the real object of her... well it wasn't exactly affection.

"Hey there pretty lady," Azazel welcomed her with a smile. They had met online in a raunchy fantasy site. They shared a common interest in bedding strangers. Their first meeting went so well they scheduled another and another. Neither brought any ID or credit card or anything that could give away their identity and ruin the fun of it all until the organised crime boss was indicted, that is. Of course she couldn't disclose that she was sleeping with a complete stranger and Dean hadn't come out about his relationship with Death's youngest, not for lack of trying on his part. It seemed a perfect arrangement that they pretend to be dating and indeed it was.

Dean would take Lisa to a place, sometimes something cheap, like now, sometimes something fancy he could barely afford. He was always reimbursed for his trouble so he wasn't concerned as much about money as he was about the time he wasted when he could have been... but wait a second, he pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialled.

"Michael Richings," the man on the other side of the line answered. He was serious about his newly acquired managerial position in his father's business.

"I love it when you use your business voice," Dean replied, "Free for lunch?"

"I'm eating at my desk I'm afraid," Michael sighed.

"And by lunch I mean sex on a bed that vibrates," Dean explained.

"Text me the address," Michael got up and put on his jacket.

"Sure," Dean ended the call with a smile and quickly went about writing the text. Michael told his assistant he'd be back in an hour and to tell anyone who asked he was eating out alone and did not want to be disturbed. He took a cab to the motel and ignored the rise of the receptionist's eyebrows as she gave him the room number. Michael walked into the unlocked room to find Dean in his boxers, stroking his cock to the cool tune of pornography.

"Starting without me?" Michael hung his jacket toed off his shoes.

"Hey, you wasted fifteen minutes driving out here and you need another fifteen to drive back to that desk you like to chain yourself to, leaving us a little under half an hour," he removed his boxers and threw them in Michael's direction. The dark haired man took off his clothes quickly and hung them on the back of a chair. "I used to enjoy ripping your clothes off," Dean sighed, "I want to be able to do that," he started his usual 'let's come out together campaign'. Michael climbed on top of him naked and shut him up with a deep kiss.

The lube Dean always carried around was on the bedside table. Michael reached for it and smeared some onto his fingers. He ground his growing erection into Dean's as he opened himself up. When he felt ready he placed Dean's impressive length at his entrance and pushed down on it. The older man let out a feral growl as he was enveloped by his lover. "Fuck," Michael cursed at the feeling of being filled. The vibrations of the magic fingers making the hardness rub against his walls, intensifying it.

"You like that?" Dean grabbed his hips, changing the angle so he could go deeper, pleasure rolling through him.

"Yes," his partner started to grind down harder and faster.

"Slow down," Dean's fingers dug into Michael's thighs but it just made him more determined. "Michael," Dean groaned as he came. He was going to warn him but it just didn't pan out that way.

"You're joking," Michael said as he felt Dean go soft inside him.

"We haven't had sex in two months," Dean said flatly, "Thought I could rub one out before you got here but that didn't work out so..." he shrugged. Michael dismounted with a groan and then whined when Dean took his cock in hand. A firm hand went around the back of his head as he started stroking the young man to completion. They kissed feverishly as the young heir thrust erratically into Dean's hand, spilling his seed.

"Are you planning to keep me your dirty little secret for the rest of our lives?" Dean asked.

"No," Michael skipped to the the bathroom with a kiss to Dean's cheek and returned with a warm towel a few minutes later.

"Are you planning on telling anyone about us?" Dean's brow furrowed.

"Not just yet," Michael said as soothingly as he could.

"You know what? You're right," Dean got up and started dressing without bothering to wipe off the drying semen on his dick and abdomen, "You're not planning to keep me your dirty little secret for the rest of our lives. That's the kind of thing that doesn't need to be planned. It's gonna happen because you're not planning to tell anyone about me either. And waiting for that to just happen would be is being naïve of us both."

"I have a plan," Michael protested, "Just please wait till I'm in a position where my being gay won't be the most important thing about me."

"I used to think you were afraid you father would reject you but that was a just a projection of my fears," Dean got angrier, "Your brother is out and proud and Death accepts him. You just don't want to loose your position as the favourite son. What? Afraid of being downgraded to court jester like Gabriel? I can't believe you," he shook his head.

"And why not?" Michael growled, "How can you of all people not understand that I want my father to be proud of me before I drop a bombshell like that on him?"

"Because I was willing to give up my father's pride," Dean walked out and shut the door. Michael wanted to follow him but he was still naked. By the time he was dressed Lisa was done with her business and the Impala was pulling away.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

If Michael could see into the future he would have told Dean exactly what he wanted to hear in that no-tell motel or maybe he wouldn't have screwed up his big brother's relationship with the only girl who seemed perfect for him. In his rage over losing Meg Lucifer outed Michael at a press conference.

"What are you doing?" Lucifer asked as his little brother stomped around packing.

"Packing a bag that will fit on the back of a motorcycle," Gabriel continued to shove random articles into the small duffel.

"Where are you going?" Lucifer seemed more amused than alarmed.

"Away from you," his brother answered.

"Why so furious? Is it because I told the world who our little brother really is?" he continued without pause, "Stop acting like I'm a monster. I simply knocked him off the trophy case. Now he's a mere mortal like the rest of us."

"He is your kid brother and he was scared," Gabriel hissed, "Instead of protecting him and supporting him like you should have, you exploited that."

"He ruined my life," Lucifer showed the first signs of genuine emotion.

"I'm done with both of you," Gabriel slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door. Lucifer let him because he thought he would be back in a weak or so with his usual cheer. I only he could see the future.

Gabriel stopped by Sam's apartment and knocked. There was no answer. Just as he turned to leave he bumped into the very person he was looking for. "Gabriel, hi," Sam smiled, "Come in," he opened the door and went inside.

"Take a drive with me," Gabriel stood outside and pointed behind his back to his bike.

"Come inside," Sam insisted. He knew this routine. Gabriel did it whenever there was trouble at home. "Come on," he grabbed Gabriel's hand and pulled him inside.

"I just wanna get away for the weekend, granted it's a day early but you can get someone to take your notes," Gabriel stood by the door.

"I can't just take off when the mood strikes," Sam turned on the light, "I'm not you." _I'm not irresponsible,_ he doesn't say out loud but they both know it's floating around in the air.

"Cookies," Gabriel sought relief from the tension.

"Jess must have brought them by," Sam blurted.

"Whose Jess?" Gabriel asked, "Are you fucking her?" he growled when he saw the little hand written 'I miss you' next to them.

"I'm not," Sam said in a way that made Gabriel not quite believe him.

"Do you want to?" he asked. Sam hesitated for a second. He liked Jess, she made him feel good. He hadn't even considered that till Gabriel brought it up. "What?" Gabriel pushed Sam into a wall.

"She's sweet," he answered, "And she hasn't slept with half of the Las Vegas population."

"Samuel, when you decide to give me the time of day I drop whatever it is I'm doing," Gabriel pushed off of Sam, "As for the other two to three quarters of any given year, a guy has needs but fine. I'm happy for you. Make pretty little green-eyed babies with _Jess_."

"It would be nice to think I'm not so easily replaced," Sam ignored the last part of Gabriel's rant.

"You think I'd have let you jerk me around for the past seven years if you were?" Gabriel's volume went up, "You think I'd be here right now if you were?" it dropped.

"I can't come with you," Sam folded his arms and averted his gaze, "Call me when you get back in town."

Gabriel just nodded and took off. Even he didn't know he would stay away as long as he would end up staying. With his brother's tearing each other's lives apart and Sam seemingly wanting to move on from whatever it was they had he just couldn't find any reason to go back.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Michael didn't get to tell anyone about his relationship with Dean because Dean didn't want to be his consolation prize and ended their relationship. Meg wasn't talking Lucifer's calls. They had nothing left but fighting each other. And for a month their father stood by thinking they would wise up and realise no good could come of this. They'd been raised right, hadn't they? Not really.

When he realised just how futile it was to wait for two boys having a fight to come to their senses he devised a plan. He invited each one to a house he owned in Texas and brought them down to the basement. "What is this?" Michael asked.

"A reminder of how popular slavery was in the south," Lucifer smirked.

"It's a prison," Death took a step out of them room and locked it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lucifer growled.

"Father?" Michael injected his confused into that word.

"This is where slaves were punished when other methods failed. It's free of all devices of torture but it will do fine as a prison cell. You two are going to live down here together. The only people you will talk to is each other. You will do all your work together etcetera. I think maybe if you two can learn to understand each other you can stop trying to hurt each other," he said in his usual stoic demeanor. Then he turned and walked away, ignoring their shouts. They concluded their stay in the former torture dungeon would amount to a slap on the wrist. Sadly, they too would were mistaken. Next time Michael saw Dean he was married to Lisa and they had a bright-eyed baby boy. Sure, the marriage was a sham and the DNA test had been falsified to keep little Benjamin from being claimed by his lowlife father (or his lowlife father's enemies, and there were many) but only three people knew that, and one of them had falsified the certificate.

**Feedback is appreciated.**


	9. Chapter 9

Dean did not like today. He had a bad feeling about it. Too much family in the same place is bad for business. It's why so many drink their way through the festive season. His brother, Adam, was in town and long lost Gabriel was back so all the Ritchings boys were sure to be in town. Sam, Jesus Sam. He could be a little… unstable when it came to Gabriel. Loki got on everyone's nerves to be sure but the way he got to Sam was just not healthy. So when his phone started buzzing, he did not expect good news.

"Cas," he answered in a low voice.

"Where the hell are you?" Castiel growled.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"I'm at your apartment," Castiel answered, "I have been knocking for the past three minutes and on the one night I needed Las Vegas to be the bone dry fucking desert it usually is it's fucking raining."

"You're in a good mood," the blond man mumbled.

"Gabriel is holding a stripper convention at my place," the gravelly voice replied, "I feel like I'm going to get herpes sitting on my couch. I need a place to sleep."

"I'll be right there," Dean replied then put the phone down before Cas could ask where he was.

"I'm going out," he told Lisa as he shoved his keys into his pocket.

"Not before Ben goes to bed, you're not," she said in a level tone.

"Lisa."

"Dean."

"You've missed four bedtimes this week alone," she put her hand on her hip, "Your boy toy can wait."

"He's not a toy boy," Dean pulled his phone out.

"If your relationship weren't as shallow as I think it is you'd have told him that you're married," Lisa went back to wiping the dishes.

"The only way that would do any good is if I could actually explain the situation to him," Dean paused in his dialing.

"You would risk Ben for a piece of ass?" Lisa's hand landed on the kitchen island harder than she would have liked.

"Okay one) Castiel isn't a piece of ass, two) and you always skim over this one, he is not a risk," Dean said the last part of it staccato.

"Everyone is a risk Dean," Lisa argued.

"He's twenty two, pre-law, knows absolutely no one, anywhere because he's from the ass end of nowhere," her husband reiterated his earlier points, "You didn't know which state Walden County was in until you googled it, neither did I. He's trying to save money, working for Sam, for Christ's sake. No one sticks to that job for the joy of it."

"I will not risk Ben," Lisa ignored them all like usual, "Tell him you don't love, tell him you married me because you knocked me up when day when you were drunk, I don't care, tell him anything but the truth."

"What kind of relationship is based on lies?" Dean threw his hands up.

"Ours," Lisa answered then she chuckled lightly. She couldn't help it, Dean had asked for that one.

"This is real for me Lis," Dean pleaded, "I haven't been in an actual relationship since Michael and we split up because he wouldn't own up to our relationship. I don't want that to happen here."

"It's not like you're really going to hide him," Lisa tried, "Everyone knows what you do."

"And everyone will keep whispering in their corners but Cas will know the truth, that's all I ask," Dean pleaded.

"I'll consider it when you guys have been together longer," she was really trying to be understanding.

"He is not going to stick around that long," Dean shook his head, "He may not flash it in everyone's face but Cas is out, okay? He won't want to be with me if he thinks I'm in the closet, which he will."

"I'm sorry Dean, I am," she looked at him sadly, "But you knew what you were signing on for when we got married."

"I never thought I'd want anyone like that after Michael," Dean sighed.

"You were right," Lisa smiled, "Just fourteen years off," she shrugged.

"What?" his brow scrunched up in confusion.

"If you'd held out fifteen more years then you'd be in the grave before you ever proved yourself wrong," she explained.

"You think I'm going to die at fifty one?" Dean looked at his wife.

"I am generous," she smiled at him like he was an infant, "The way you eat, drink and, um, sleep, you'll be lucky not to keel over by fifty."

"Celibacy has made you judgey," Dean shook his finger at her, "If you're not careful you're going to try to do it one day only to find that thing has sealed up," he pointed.

"What thing?" Ben walked into the kitchen with a glass.

"The zipper," his dad answered.

"Why would that seal up?" Ben gave him a confused look. Lisa covered her mouth to hide her silent laughter.

"Uh, well, Mommy doesn't undo her zip when she takes off her pants," Dean answered.

"But mommy you told me that wasn't the right way to take off my pants," the little boy turned to his mother with a pout. If she could just shove them down and stomp out of them why couldn't he.

"Mommy doesn't do that Angel," she wiped the white residue off the corner of his mouth and opened the fridge to get him more milk when he presented his glass, "Daddy is telling tales."

"But Dad," he turned to Dean with a sly smile, "You told me that telling was for bi- babies."

"He told you that telling was for what?" Lisa's head poked out of the fridge.

"What was it again Daddy?" Ben's eyes went right back to wide-eyed innocence.

"Babies," Dean brushed Ben's back, "I'm out of dollars," he said between his teeth.

"Babies," Ben nodded, "I can break a five," the young boy smiled when his mother went back to retrieve the milk.

"Oh you little bastard," Dean said pleasantly as he brushed Ben's hair, "No one will ever doubt that you're mine."

"Thanks mom," Ben stood on his toes and kissed Lisa's cheek, "Dad's tucking me in tonight, right?"

"Yes he is," his mother smiled.

"I'm right behind you," Dean gave him a reassuring smile. He texted his neighbor at his apartment building that someone would be coming over for his emergency key then he texted Cas the apartment number where he should pick it up. Ben might be lurking somewhere waiting to get paid. These weren't conversations he could risk having out loud. A home away from home was not something he did not want to explain to his eight year old.

"You are so thirteen right now," Lisa rolled her eyes as she walked past Dean's stupid grin. Cas texted back that his neighbor had a very friendly cat, smelled like patchouli and was apparently growing _ferns_. Was this really who Dean trusted with his keys?

_Hippies don't judge _he texted his boyfriend.

_Even better, her name is Sequoia. _

_What is with you and names?_

_You wouldn't understand, DEAN!_

_Screw you CASTIEL and please excuse me while I go get manipulated out of some money._

_I would mock you for working too much but, as I work for Satan, I don't have that luxury._

_Stop calling my brother Satan._

_I can't help it because HE IS SATAN. _

_What did he do now?_

_Made me stand in the cold (and not to mention the stinging wet) for a cup of his disgusting coffee (the stupid coffee maker's broken and he doesn't like vending machine coffee but he drinks STREET coffee?) then he dropped it ON MY FEET and I had to run around with wet socks all day. Did I mention I've managed to catch a cold?_

_Hence the extra gravel in your voice._

_Fuck you._

_Please do._

_Fancy a Rhino virus?_

_No one said we had to kiss._

_Ass. _

_Thinking of yours._

_And I of yours._

_Goodbye._

_In my life I've never met a man so shy about bottoming._

_Goodbye Cas._

"Hey slugger," Dean slipped into Ben's room.

"Can we go back to 'champ'?" Ben asked.

"You hated that last week," his dad answered.

"You hadn't called me slugger last week," his son replied.

"No backsies," Dean wagged his finger, "Now, to sleep with you."

"Business first," Ben stuck out his hand.

"Here," Dean gave him a five, "I don't want the change. Next time you want money, my little blackmailer, refer to this note."

"Score," Ben slipped the bill under his pillow. Dean shook his head then he pulled the blanket up to Ben's neck and tucked it under his sides.

"Angels are watching over you," he brushed his son's hair back and kissed his forehead. Ben was too old to be kissed of course, except at bedtime. Dean made to leave the room.

"Daddy?" he said in a small voice. _What did you do?_ Dean asked in his head. "Are you and mom getting it on?"

"Ah," Dean turned around, "Getting what on?" he asked.

"I don't know," Ben shrugged, "Russell said daddy's are in a good mood when they get it on with women, in a bed or on a bed, and something about ass. You're in a good mood and mom's always snapping the dishcloth at your ass and laughing."

"Ben you must be the only naïve kid who swears," Dean sat down.

"What?" his son didn't understand.

"Yes," Dean lied, "But listen… 'Getting it on' (and Dean had to shake his head at this) is what mommies and daddies do when they love each other. And yes, it puts them in a good mood. The details, I cannot share with you before talking to your mother lest I provide you with more blackmail ammunition. But hear this, it's something you should treat with the utmost respect and if you ever have another question about it come to me."

"What about two mommies?" the thought just occurred to Ben, "Bianca has two mommies and they're always happy."

"Two mommies can get it on too," Dean nodded, feeling a painful awkwardness that his son was completely oblivious to.

"Okay," Ben nodded, "Night Dad," he rolled over and closed his eyes.

"Night," Dean smiled, "Guess what our son just asked me?" he sprang over the couch and landed next to Lisa.

"Child," she slapped his leg.

"Are we getting it on?" said Dean.

"What?" Lisa asked with that look that told him to say something that made better sense the possible meanings swimming around in her head.

"He asked me if we're getting it on," he told her.

"Why?" she looked worried and perplexed.

"Because some kid at his school was talking about it," Dean explained, "Ben must have overheard."

"What kid?" she asked.

"You can't go mommy 911 on this Lis. Not only would it not help one damn bit, Ben would most likely get his ass kicked for telling and would never tell us anything ever again," Dean put a hand on her shoulder, "I told him you would explain everything tomorrow."

"You what?" her hand inched up his arm, towards his neck.

"Relax, I talked to him but you're way better at this stuff than I am so you should talk to him to," he suggested, "I mean you handled 'where babies come?' from like a pro. I didn't even know if I should tell him it had something to do with 'planting the seed' or if 'getting it on' meant 'sex'. I just. I'm not really good at this stuff."

"Yes you are," Lisa corrected, "You're the best father Ben could have."

"Bachelor number two was not much contest," Dean shrugged.

"That's not what I mean," Lisa shook her head, "You're a great dad and you're great guy, no man would ever have signed up for this just to save an irresponsible friend from a stupid, stupid mistake. Ben really looks up to you. He couldn't have picked a better role model."

"Thank you," he kissed her cheek, "I'll be back before school. If he comes down before I do, tell him I went to get pancakes because neither of his parents is good at making them."

"Plain pancakes," Lisa called after him, "Not those things they drown in syrup and coat in sugar. There may be no getting you off the junk food train but there's hope for Ben."

**AN: Family moments, there's nothing like them. Sorry, I'm headed to class, no porn. i always wind up deleting chapters or havin two even after replacing one so i decided to tell u in this little note that it was Zackariah no Lucifer who graduated with Dean and Gabriel. Lucifer's role as big brother to Loki is kind of important. Next: Gabriel and Sam reunion (and Gabriel and everyone else reunions). And of course the resulting fallout. We all know he's a trouble maker, right?**

**Please leave a review. **


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